


Jason Todd's guide on how (hopefully not failed) to convince your brother to join the light side

by Chiaki_Hamano



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Crime, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Jason's foul mouth, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Undercover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-05 00:10:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10293023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiaki_Hamano/pseuds/Chiaki_Hamano
Summary: It had been three years since Dick Grayson, aka Nightwing, died. Jason Todd was ready to move on with his life. Unfortunately, he must have pissed off some gods above pretty bad with his non-death experience because just when he had a simple, straight forward undercover mission to get rid of a mafia boss, Jason had to go ahead and fall for a dude with the most ridiculously attractive body, patchy skin and the most incredible pair of blue eyes he had ever seen.Jason was so screwed. And it was not even in a fun way.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters (thank God for small miracles), I don't make any profits out of this and all mistakes are my own. :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea bugged me until I wrote it down. So here it is. I posted a thing XD First Jaydick story I have ever written so... Let's hope I don't crash and burn.

Everyone was here. Batman, Batgirl, Robin, Red Robin, Spoiler… the entire frigging Bat clan was here. E.v.e.r.y.o.n.e. As if Gotham wasn’t awfully crowded already. Seriously, someone ought to put a cap on how any kids Batman was allowed to adopt.

 

Jason Todd, aka Red Hood, simply didn’t do family meetings. Hell, he didn’t do family. Period. But... it had become something of a tradition after that incident 3 years ago. Dragging a long breath from his burning cigarette, the antihero flicked the ash away. “See? Everyone’s alive. I’m alive. Awesome. Can I go now?” He asked testily, ignoring the looks of disapproval everyone shot him.

 

“Hood.” Batman said simply and Jason resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Seriously? Batman was pulling the disappointed father card with him? Ridiculous. Jason didn’t really have the patience to deal with him tonight. Unlike the others, he actually had work to do.

 

“I know how much you love family meetings and all, Batdad but I’m not one of you.” Jason said, stabbing the butt of the cigarette to the ground, Jason dusted his hand and grabbed his red hood. “Unlike you all, I have actual work to do. If you want to sit around a campfire and sing, be my guest. Stop bothering me. Jesus. One would think you bunch would have gotten used to dead birds by now.” Jason snapped. Oops. Too far?

 

Jason probably enjoyed the flashes of pain and regrets on everyone’s face a bit too much to be considered healthy but it got his point across. “No one asked you to join, Hood.” The demon spawn grouched. Aww, how cute. A mini bat in the making.

 

“I have an invitation that said otherwise, brat.” Jason couldn’t help but gloat. “Whatever. I’m outa here. Hope to see you all again… _not_.” He huffed out. “What a waste of fucking time.” Jason put his hood back on and simply left without another word. That was a bit of a dick move on his part but screw it, Jason wasn't going to stay here to listen to the Bat clan moping.

 

* * *

 

 

Jason took a walk on the lonely street of Gotham, ignoring the obvious elephant in the room. Three fucking years. It had been three fucking years. He huffed. Like he said earlier, it wasn’t as if this was the first time a bird died. So who cared if three years ago, Dick Grayson got blasted into smithereens?

 

Oh yeah, all stories should have a beginning. Well, to be honest, it was pretty anticlimactic actually. Dick Grayson’s parents died and he became an orphan and got caught in the eye of some rich dude called Bruce Wayne. Then it so happened that this rich dude was also THE Batman. Double identities? So clichés. Anyway, Dick then became Batman’s Robin, dynamic duo and all that. Yadda, yadda, yadda. He then became Nightwing. He saved people’s lives, etc, etc. Now, came the interesting part, how he died.

 

Jason was always surprised that it took this long for Golden Boy to kick the bucket. In their line of work, people tended to die young. Jason wasn’t in Bludhaven that day so he only heard it second hand. Apparently, Nightwing was busting some meth lab. Unfortunately, what he didn’t know was that the lab was also doubled as an explosives facility for the gang. (Personally, Jason had always wondered who was idiotic enough to put two facilities like that in the same building.) Suck for the person who gave Goldie that false information. Fight ensured; the lab blew up. And Golden Boy kicked the bucket rushing in to try and save a gang member who was probably dead by then anyway.

 

Came to think about it, they never managed to find a full piece of Goldie. Jason supposed that he was lucky he was still whole when he died. Kind of. Whatever. The point here was, everyone moped because of Golden Boy’s death. Even the Replacement’s attempts to cheer the Bats up didn’t really work. Jason was pretty sure that when he died, no one moped for that long. Well, maybe they did, but Jason was never going to let himself believe that.

 

The point was that after Golden Boy’s death, every year, on his death anniversary, the Bat clan came together to Gotham to patrol together. It was to honor his death or something. Hence, that was why he got the invitation. It had already been three years though and while sometimes, just really rare times mind you, Jason could admit that he may miss bantering with that annoying flamboyant dick (no pun intended), it was time to move the fuck on.

 

Denial was total bliss and Jason didn’t even hesitate to push the mess that was his complicated relationship with Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson aside to focus on his work. He didn’t lie when he told the others he had actual work to do. (Shocking, he knew.) There was a new gang in town and this was no regular gang, either. It was actually a big mafia organization. Had their dirty hands dipped in all kind of shit. Human trafficking, child prostitution, drugs, fighting rings…etc. The family was actually well known across the states and no one had managed to completely get rid of them. Not even the vigilantes, and the police didn’t even count.

 

It must be because of the vigilantes’ usual ‘no kill’ policy bullshit. If they had actually had the balls to finish the job, those shitheads wouldn’t live this long. Hence, it had to come down to yours truly the Red Hood to deal with this shit. The mafia gang hadn’t actually established a base operation in Gotham yet and this was their chance to do so. They wanted to dip their shitty hand in this godforsaken shithole called Gotham with all the crazies and charms that came with it.

 

Normally, once the base was established, the big boss himself (Or was it herself?) wouldn’t be bothered to come anymore, letting all the little minions do the dirty job for the bastard. The only time the big boss actually visited a base that wasn’t a random ass inspection was when they were surveying the potential of the city. This was Jason’s only chance to cut the head of the snake. The big boss was coming. And Jason planned to go undercover to get close and make sure to tell him how _displeased_ the Red Hood was when someone involved kids in a crime.

 

That was the gist of the plan. Get in, get close, then kill. It was simple and straight forward, just the way Jason liked it. Jason had created an undercover persona for himself, some greedy informant that was ready to sell his soul for money and while he had to sacrifice some juicy pieces of information for the gang, it was worth it. Tomorrow he was going to meet up with the officials for the first time and hopefully, he would find a way to get closed. Then one bullet would be all it took for the job to be completed.

 

Ah. Getting rid of the ‘no kill’ policy was the best thing Jason had ever done for himself. Period.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I suck at characterization. And I also suck at writing in general. I still hope I manage to pull a convincing enough Jason Todd though XD Next chapter is when things are going to get interested. So stay tune for that :D
> 
> I welcome all reviews, suggestions and questions from you guys :D It's an honor as a writer to know how my readers feel reading this thing I wrote.


	2. Jason Todd’s guide on how to know if you are a bit gay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Long end note ahead. Another warning: I wanna push through a real chapter after the first prologue so the next chapter might be a longer wait than this one. Rest assured, I will do the best of my ability to make it at least passable. And another warning (Man, so many warnings), I suck at writing organized crimes, and also I have no idea what I'm doing right now. Just a fair warning.

So today was the big day. No, not the _big day_ big day. Jason was _not_ getting married. Hell no, why would he want to shackle himself to some girls or guys that demanded Valentine gifts and the ability to remember random days of the year? Yeah thanks but no thanks. He was good with one night stands and rushed quickies.

 

Nah, today was the day he was supposed to meet up with the gang officials. Supposedly, one of the big bosses was there as well but Jason wasn’t counting much on that. This was the first meeting after all and while Jason had successfully established himself as an informant, he wasn’t naïve enough to believe they would so easily give him access to the higher ups. That was fine. This was a long term mission anyway. Jason intended to destroy the sons of bitches once and for all.

 

Dressing up was a part of the job and if Jason had dressed himself like a greedy scumbag that his undercover persona was, well, it came with the job. Jason inspected himself in the mirror. He looked damn fine if he had to comment on his own look. One had to be a little vain to be willing to dress up in tights and pixie boots after all. It was lucky that his role didn’t require for him to dress up too different from how he normally dressed. A black t shirt, leather jacket and a pair of faded jeans. His hair was combed back and the white bangs were brushed back stylishly.

 

Checking his watch one more time, Jason decided to forgo most of his guns and only carried with him one. It wasn’t even his favorite. He was fairly certain that there wouldn’t be any use for it but one couldn’t be too cautious. Jason looked at his apartment one more time before Jason took his biker helmet.

 

Time to go.

 

* * *

 

Jason arrived to the destination with 5 minutes to spare. He parked his bike in front of the club, looking at the flashing neon sign. He was no longer Jason Todd. He was Zachary ‘Zach’ Taylor, a dirty scumbag who would sell his parents’ kidneys if it meant he got more cash. Come to think about it, his cover persona did do so actually. Jason took a deep breath and walked in. Unsurprisingly, he was stopped by the bouncer. “Zachary Taylor, I have some business with the boss.” Zach slurred, side eyeing the bouncer as he checked the list.

 

“At the end of the hall. VIP room.” The bouncer grunted out and Zach sauntered in, giving the bouncer a two fingers salute. The club was just a typical strip club, obnoxious music blaring at high volume with a heavy taste of sex in the air. Zach was approached by a few people who couldn’t resist a taste of that ass but was quickly discouraged when they realized Zach had a purpose other than sex.

 

The Jason part of him memorized all the possible escape routes in case things went to shit. He stopped in front of the VIP room, staring at the flickering light that indicated that the room was occupied. Zach gave a nod before turning the doorknob and walked in.

 

Immediately, there were guns pointing at his head and Zach persona stuttered a bit but Jason held firm to it, refusing to let it go. He slowly raised both hands to appear less threatening. “The name’s Zachary Taylor. I have an appointment.” He said slowly, licking his lips. He was pushed forward rather roughly and the door behind him slammed shut. Hands patted his body down and found his gun. It was tossed to one of the guards there who easily caught it. “Hey!” Zach protested but he shut up when the guns trailed on him again.

 

“I don’t want any troubles, okay? I’m just here for the money. I have the info, you have the money. Easy trade.” Zach said, his voice shook with fake bravado and it was obvious that the thugs saw through it because one snorted. He glanced around the room, assessing the situation.

 

There were around 5 guards surrounding him, all bulky bodies and testosterone. Zach peered further. On the comfortable looking sofa were two other people, obviously higher ranking than the rest who were probably no more than thugs. The man who was sitting was wearing a tasteful suit, peeking from his collar was a swirling tribal tattoo. He was obviously the leader of the bunch, all business and pleasant smiles.

 

The other, well, the other really caught both Zach persona and Jason’s attention. From where Jason was standing, the other seemed to be shorter than him, with a much slender, lithe build. They had long black hair that was tied back to a loose ponytail, hanging low, reaching their mid back. A few stray locks framed the face just right, giving the person a gentle touch.

 

The next bit that caught his attention was the strange skin condition the other seemed to have. His skin seemed to be naturally tan, an exotic mix that indicated he wasn’t white. What interesting were the strange white patches that littered his skin. It seemed like some kind of skin condition or some sort of strange scars. The white patches were uneven. Some patches were big, the others smaller. And when the person felt his scrutinizing and looked up, oh, Jason was trapped in the intense gaze of the most exotic pair of eyes he had ever seen.

 

The eyes were odd color and dimly, a small bookish part of him kindly reminded him that the condition was called heterochromia iridum. Two eyes with different colors. The person’s right eye was darker shade of blue than the other eye. The left eye was almost a grayish white color. Briefly, Jason wondered if the person could see with their left eye.

 

Ah, yeah, the reason why Jason still called the person ‘the person’ was because he wasn’t entirely sure of the gender yet. He was built like a man, a very hot, very exotic man, but he had long hair and he just had a hint of feminine aura surrounding him. The person could still be a woman with a very flat chest. It confused Jason’s dick. Shit, his dick was doing the thinking now, that wasn’t good. The person was also talking softly to the boss. Oh good, Jason could see the bobbing adams apple. Yeah, okay, ‘the person’ was a very hot _guy_ then. The knowledge didn’t make Jason’s dick any less interested. Okay, good to know that he was a bit gay. He liked being flexible. That was good.

 

“Stop scaring Mr. Taylor, boys. Mr.Taylor, I’m so sorry for the boys’ manners, they still need a lot of teaching.” A bored voice drawled and Zachary persona snapped back into place.

 

Zach offered the boss a shaky smile. “It’s no big deal.” He said, dusting his jacket for the invisible dust. The guards backed down at the command and made way for Zach to come to the boss.

 

“Oh, please, take a seat, Mr. Taylor. We are all friends here.” The boss smiled, the action reminded Zach too much of a shark. He gestured toward the opposite seat, the smile didn’t disappear from his face.

 

Zach took a cautious seat across from the boss and when he looked up, he froze in mid action because the boss had already had a gun in his hand from out of nowhere, the safety had already been clicked off and the man was pointing the gun to Zach’s head. The shark like smile was still in place. “Zachary, may I call you Zachary? Now, give me one good reason why I shouldn’t force the information out of you before giving you a bullet between your eyebrows? Right here. Tt, tt.” The boss drawled, leaning forward and tapped the cold gun to Zach’s head just to emphasize his point.

 

Zach sputtered. “W-We had a deal!” He said, losing his composure.

 

“Did we now?” The boss asked curiously, tilting his head. “I don’t remember shaking on it.” He leaned back, looking up at the other man. “Johnny, do you think we have any uses for greedy informants?”

 

The man, Johnny(?), gave Zach an assessing look before he opened his mouth to speak. For a man supposedly working for the mafia, Johnny had a really soft voice, rough with the lack of use, but still very soft. “No, we don’t, sir.” He said quietly, his mismatched eyes pierced Jason on the spot with their intensity. It wasn’t even an act.

 

Zach turned back to the boss and looked between the boss and his right hand man. “That’s what I thought as well.” The boss grinned and Zach raised both hands up, panicking.

 

“Please hear me out. I can offer you lots. Gotham has the Bats and they are really annoying and there are a lot of them. I am a Gotham native and I’m sure I can offer you some insights on how to deal with them. Lots of my connections have gone under the radar thanks to my help.” Zach protested.

 

The boss paused, lifting one eyebrow. He pursed his lips. “Well, that’s one good reason, I suppose.” He chuckled to himself. “Let’s do business then, _Zachary_.” The word ‘Zachary’ was dragged mockingly like it was an insult rather than his name.

 

Zach swallowed thickly. “Okay. Okay. Business, right.” He muttered to himself, his hands shook slightly. “Right. I’m an informant. Information is my thing.” He said, smoothing down his jacket.

 

The boss smirked. “Johnny, how rude you are. Offer Zachary a smoke, would you?” He ordered and Johnny pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one up. It was a very expensive brand, Zach noted to himself.

 

“Please enjoy.” Johnny said, offering Zach the cigarette. Their hands brushed briefly and Zach nearly jerked his hand back at the electricity shock he felt. Jason groaned to himself. Oh fuck, he had a _crush_ like a school girl. This was not a good start.

 

Zach put the cigarette in his mouth and inhaled. The rush of nicotine calmed his shaking a little bit and he searched his pocket for a piece of paper. “I… I have the information you require here.” He said, placing the piece of paper on the table.

 

The boss took the crumbled paper and read it, humming to himself. “Hmm.” He placed the paper in his pocket and jerked his head toward Johnny. “A gesture of good will, Johnny.” He ordered and Johnny replied with a soft ‘Right away, sir.’ Before going somewhere to retrieve something. The boss sent Zach an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry for Johnny’s uselessness. It’s so hard to find good service nowadays.”

 

Zach shook his head. “Oh no, no, it’s alright. I don’t mind waiting.” He said nervously. “I’m just glad for the chance to work with you. I have heard the name Camelio a lot of times before. I never imagine that you will be willing to put a station in Gotham.” He said as an attempt at small talks.

 

The boss chuckled in amusement but didn’t reply to the awkward attempt. It made Zach shift uncomfortably, trying to lighten up the mood. However, before he could make a fool out of himself, Johnny had come back with a black suitcase. He placed it in front of the boss and the man smiled, waving a hand dismissively at his helper. Johnny obediently took a step back.

 

“Like I said, _Zachary_ , a gesture of good will.” The boss purred, unlocking the suitcase and showed Zach a suitcase full of cash. “We Camelio reward and punish people according to their loyalty.” He chuckled. “Half of the money you require for this piece of information, Zachary. After we finish our business, we will hand you the other half.” The boss looked at one of the thugs and the bulky man quickly handed him Zach’s gun that had been confiscated when he entered the room. “But if you betray us, we will kindly provide you with your own gun so you can end it quickly and as painlessly as possible.” The boss placed the gun in the suitcase and pushed it toward Zach.

 

Zach took the suitcase and put the gun aside to examine the money. He licked his lips and looked up at the boss, nodding quickly in agreement. “Good business, yeah. Yeah.” He mumbled, putting his gun back to its holster.

 

“Good business, indeed.” The boss smiled pleasantly. “Johnny.” He said sternly and Johnny placed a phone on the table along with a business card. Zach picked up the phone and the card. It was the card of a fancy five stars hotel downtown. “We will contact you for further business or to transfer money with that phone so don’t forget to carry it with you everywhere you go. The card is for our next meeting. Details on the other side. _Don’t lose it_.”

 

“Yeah. Okay. Phone for money. Card for meeting. Got it.” Zach said, putting the items away.

 

“My name is Giovanni Lodato. It’s a pleasure doing business with you.” The boss finally introduced himself and Zach knew this was the end of the meeting. “Just tell the bartender the boss treats you tonight and you can get whatever you want for free. Enjoy your stay.” He winked. “Johnny, escort my guest out.”

 

Zach stood up, stumbling a bit as he locked the suitcase and grabbed it for dear life. “Follow me.” Johnny said and waited for one of the lackeys to open the door before he walked in front of Zach, leading him back to the strip club.

 

Both Zach and Jason couldn’t stop staring at Johnny’s ass though. The way his whole body swayed was just beautiful. It wasn’t the walk of some cheap sugar sweetheart. It was the prowl of a lethal predator. Johnny glanced back at Zach, apparently feeling the stare because he just smirked. “Find something you like?” He asked and oh boy, even when the music was gradually getting louder, trying to drown the quiet voice, Jason could still hear the firm command of a leader in the voice. Shit. He got it _bad_.

 

“Yes. Erm. I mean. I’m Zach Taylor. Nice to meet you.” Jason said, giving Johnny a Zach smile. Johnny chuckled silently at the awkward talk, no sound escaped his lips but Jason had the very clear impression he was being laughed at.

 

“I gather as much from the meeting.” Johnny finally stopped chuckling. Jason waited for him to introduce his name but it never came.

 

“May I have your name?” Jason pushed.

 

“I apologize but I’m quite fond of my name so no, you may not have it.” Johnny said with a smile. It widened just a tiny fraction when Jason’s face fell. “Mr. Informant, I’m under the impression that you know information doesn’t come for free. Am I correct?”

 

Oh. _Oh_. Jason cleared his throat. “May I buy you a drink?” He tested and was rewarded with another cat-like smile.

 

“Better attempt, _Zach_.” Wow, apparently, the ability to use one’s name as a teasing or an insult was some sort of mafia secret because just then, Jason was sure he was being laughed at again. “Yes, you may.” He said and after a beat, Johnny added. “I have to warn you, I do not come with a discount tag so you had better prepare yourself.”

 

Jason grinned. He knew playing with fire, flirting while he was working was dangerous but _boy_ , he was willing to risk it this time. It wasn’t as if this would bloom into something more than a one night stand anyway. “Valuable information comes at a higher price. I know.” Jason said.

 

Johnny gave him a pleased smile and made his way to an empty seat at the bar. Jason sat next to him. “Boss treats me tonight so… Bring me the best you’ve got.” He told the bartender, turning to Johnny. “What would you like?” He asked.

 

Johnny tapped his chin thoughtfully. “A frozen Mai Tai please. Thank you.” He said politely, turning to face Jason. “You had better work your charm fast, Mr. Informant because the boss won’t want me to go missing for too long.” He winked. “Might even send a search party.”

 

Jason grinned despite himself. “You want to see my charm and yet you urge for me to do it fast. My, a little patience goes a long way, you know. I’ve known to be _very_ patient.” He flirted. “Well, _Johnny_ , may I have your name now?” So the ability to mock using one’s name wasn’t exclusive to mafia only. Jason was learning to do it, see?

 

Johnny grinned back, feral and deadly. “The _firepower_ is also important, you know. Not just the time it takes.” He said, giving Jason a once over. He took the drink and sipped it, long eyelashes fluttered prettily. Jason was suddenly glad that the boss wasn’t this man or else he would have a very _hard_ time concentrating on the meeting. “I suppose you earn yourself a little bit of information with the drink.” He drawled. “Doe. My name is John Doe.” He said.

 

Jason arched an eyebrow. “Interesting name.” He commented. And it was. He kept it in mind that John ‘Doe’ might be lying to him so he couldn’t find information about the man.

 

“Isn’t it?” John asked. “I’m rather fond of it if you ask me.” He said, stirring his drink idly. Jason waited for something more but Johnny seemed to be content to drink in silence and Jason was very distracted by the way John’s tongue snaked out to drag across his bottom lip.

 

“Not very talkative, ain’t cha?” Jason asked and John hummed, his adams apple bobbed and Jason’s dick took very keen notice of the motion. “Can’t work my charms if you don’t co-operate, you know. A dance is not enjoyable if it’s one person’s work.”

 

John glanced at Jason, and up close, Jason noticed that John’s left eye wasn’t actually white, it was just a very, _very_ pale blue. “I don’t really need to talk much while I work. Am never one for idle chatting.” The corners of John’s mouth turned up slightly in an ironic smile and Jason had the feeling he was missing out on some inside jokes.

 

“That’s a shame.” Jason drawled. “Your voice can give a mermaid a run for her money.” It wasn’t his smoothest attempt but fuck it, Zach wasn’t supposed to be smooth anyway. It did earn Jason a rather casual snort of amusement from John though so he considered it a win. The mask of politeness Johnny had worn all night cracked a bit to reveal a much more volatile, spitfire personality beneath it.

 

“Real smooth, Taylor. Real smooth.” John said sarcastically.

 

“It did the job, didn’t it?” Jason winked. “Wanna hear another cheesy line?” He didn’t pause to hear John’s answer, pushing forward one of the cheesiest lines every produced. “You must be tired ‘cause you have been running through my mind all night long.” He said.

 

John couldn’t stiffen the laugh fast enough and his shoulders shook with the effort to hold it back. Jason had the feeling that at some points in his life, John had been a talkative person but something happened and it locked away all the laughter and all the sounds that came with it. Jason found that he wanted to at least hear some of it. The sounds that had been locked away.

 

“Oh god, please stop.” John grinned, a wide, unrestrained smile that lit up his entire face.

 

“I’m not a photographer, but I can picture the two of us together.” Jason couldn’t help his own rumbling laugh this time. It was so cheesy it hurt. John bit his lip to hide another smile, shaking his head.

 

“You’re lucky you at least have the looks.” John chuckled. “Been awhile since I laughed that hard. I’m exhausted.” He finished his drink and looked at Jason, the fond glint slowly faded away.

 

“So can I have your numbers then?” Jason asked after a bit when the mirth had died down, leaving behind only a nice camaraderie sort of contentment.

 

“So straight forward. I hope you’re not as straight as your words.” John joked lightly. “Don’t worry, I already have yours. And if business goes well, we will be seeing each other a _lot_.” He said and stood up.

 

“I have never got the chance to ask what you do. So… what’s a beauty like you doing in such a shady business?” Jason asked, thankful that his state of mind still didn’t prevent him from pushing for information.

 

John regarded Jason with a tilt of his head, the brief glimpse of the hidden personality was tucked away safely and he was all mafia-like again. “Curiosity kills the cat as the saying goes… But I suppose I can give you this bit of information for free. A show of good faith.” He leaned forward to whisper in Jason’s ear. “I do pest control. My specialty is _rats_ management. Let’s hope we don’t meet in a more… _professional_ circumstance.” Despite the threat, Jason couldn’t suppress the full body shudder. He was very aware of the puffs of warm breaths on his neck or how close John’s mouth to his skin was. After he went home, Jason needed to have a serious talk with his dick about doing the thinking.

 

John smirked, noticing Jason’s reaction to his words. He blew cold air in his ear before exhaled a breathless. “ _Zachary_.” Shit, Jason needed to learn how these people managed to put so many shades of emotions in just a name. It wasn’t even his real name and yet Jason could feel his pants get uncomfortably tight.

 

John pulled away, pleased with himself. He gave Jason a teasing wink before walking away. Jason barely managed to shoot out the last words, not wanting to be defeated so easily. “Hey, Johnny, all the nice foreplay and no delivery isn’t fair you know.” He called out.

 

John just laughed and this time, it was a melodic sound that reached Jason’s ear. “Are you calling me a tease, Mr. Taylor?” He asked, swinging his hips in a way that made Jason’s mouth water and dry at the same time. John stalked away without another word and Jason suddenly realized he wasn’t the one that had the last words, too busy staring at the curve of John’s sway.

 

Shit. Jason needed a serious talk with his dick about doing the thinking while he was on a mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hi. Okay, so I wanna clarify something:
> 
>  **Camelio mafia clan:** I base this on the Camorra mafia clan, a real Italian mafia group. For more information on that particular clan, you gotta read Wiki, but this is the quote that I find rather important: 'The Camorra has more of a 'horizontal' than a 'vertical' structure. As a result, individual Camorra clans act independently of each other, and are more prone to feuding among themselves. This however makes the Camorra more resilient when top leaders are arrested or killed, with new clans and organizations germinating out of the stumps of old ones.'
> 
> Next up, **heterochromia iridum:** you may gather briefly that this is the condition in which both eyes have different colors from each other but this is only half true (Jason's dick was doing the thinking when I wrote that. Don't trust Jason's dick). It can also mean one eye has two colors, (for example: A blue eye having a blot of brown in it or vice versa). This condition can either be genetic or acquired through diseases or certain traumas.
> 
> Lastly, well, ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce you Dick 'John Doe' Grayson. What happened to him is fairly easy to guess but there's more to the story than just that ;) So stay tune for the next instalment. Also, I apologize for my inability to write characters. I suck, I know.
> 
> P/S: Okay, just to make sure, I wanna say that Jason does NOT do love at first sight. The other dude's hot, and Jason has a thing. A crush thing. Like a school girl thing. But it's not love. Okay. Glad to know we come to an understanding on that one.


	3. In which Jason got bitch slapped by a cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friend dared me to put a cat coffee in a Mafia AU. Challenge accepted. This chapter has quite a bit of info, but it's mostly filler-ish for what's about to come next chapter. I hope you are ready for some actions. I still have no idea what I'm doing though. Just so you are warned. I hope you don't hate this. I'm nervous about posting this... Also, I think Roy and Jason's friendship is a beautiful thing that needs to be treasured. And Lian is cute. So...

Jason Todd stared at the ceiling like it contained all the answers in the universe. It stared back at him, highly unimpressed. Jason decided that he really hated ceilings. They were total bastards. The floors were a close second, especially in awkward situations. Bastards, the lot of them.

 

Jason tossed and turned, kicking the blanket until it bunched into a ball. He scowled, reaching over to grab his phone. He punched in the first number that popped up in his mind, which was conveniently Roy’s. He hadn’t talked to his _acquaintance_ in some time now and this situation seemed to be fitting, considering that Roy had experience in it more than he did.

 

… Okay, so maybe Jason considered Harper _more_ than an acquaintance. Not that he would ever admit it to that smug face. “Harper.” Jason immediately greeted once Roy picked up the call. He raised an eyebrow when he heard faint cursing from the other side, the sound of something shuffling and a small click of the night lamp being turned on.

 

“You still keep that fugly lamp by your bed side? I told you to get rid of it ages ago.” Jason continued after a few moments. What? He never said he was good with his words. The connection between his brain and his mouth was severely damaged anyway.

 

Silence greeted his words.

 

“Harper?” Jason tried again. “A ‘long time no speak. I missed your awesomeness, oh lordly Red Hood’ would be nice.” He smirked when he did get a response this time, even if it was some very elaborated cursing.

 

“You’re calling me at… 3 freaking AM to talk about my _lamp_ , Todd? I swear to God, this had better be good or I will shoot an arrow up your ass. The type that’s coated in chili powder.” Roy replied irritably. Ouch, someone was grumpy.

 

Other people would probably pick a gentler way to break the ice and tell the truth. Jason wasn’t ‘other people’. So he decided to just blurt out the truth in a complete Jason-like manner, ripping out that band aid so to speak. “I think I might like it up the ass.” He blurted out.

 

Jason could imagine Harper blinked stupidly at him. “…Okay?” Roy carefully said. “… I am glad you have been enlightened?...” The reply was so uncertain that Jason snorted. He could practically hear the question mark in Roy’s words. Okay, so maybe blurting it out like that wasn’t the best idea. Some elaboration then.

 

“I’m undercover right now. The Camelio is thinking about stationing in Gotham. And well…” Jason’s voice trailed off. “… I met a guy…” He mentally winced. He sounded like a lovestruck school girl.

 

Roy was highly unimpressed though. “Go on.” He pressed. Jason scowled. Well, that was it, wasn’t it? Jason thought the guy was hot, and he might be gayer than he previously thought. He didn’t hesitate to tell Roy exactly that.

 

Roy’s eye-roll was so obvious even in Jason’s side of the line that it was mildly insulting. “Dude, I knew about that ages ago.” Roy said… Wait, what? Jason didn’t figure it out until after the highly unsatisfied wanking session when the images he got off to weren’t of girls in flimsy clothes but of quiet laughs, breathless voices and mismatched eyes.

 

Jason’s silence must have triggered something because Roy just said in an exasperated voice. “Dude, you had fantasies about _Dick_.” He paused for one second before adding. “Not _dicks_ , Dick. Dick Grayson. You know, Nightwing?” Roy reminded Jason.

 

Jason’s face turned an embarrassing shade of red. “I know what you mean. And that’s the _hormones_ talking! Puberty fucks with everyone! Gross. I grew out of it, okay? It was a phase. A _phase_.” He hadn’t had any thoughts about him for years! Sure, sometimes, Jason would find that ass really distracting but girls had asses, boys had asses. Finding an ass attractive didn’t make him _gay_.

 

Jason resisted the urge to facepalm. He was thinking about a dead guy’s ass. His dead, adopted _brother_ ’s ass to be more exact. Jason was going to _Hell_.

 

“So what about those handjobs you used to have when you went to bars? And don’t lie. I _know_.” Roy pointed out. Jason bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying anything. He would not pout. He would _not_. Jason remained stubbornly silent.

 

“… Jason. Are you _sulking_?” Roy asked after the silence stretched.

 

“ _No_. Babies sulk. Children sulk. Batman sulks. I _brood_ , okay?” Jason had to make sure Roy understand. There was a fine line between ‘sulking’ and ‘brooding’. A guy like him just didn’t _sulk_.

 

“… _Right._ ” Roy replied after a beat, unconvinced. “Well, are you done _brooding_?” Roy Harper, the bastard. Jason wanted to punch his face. Granted, he wasn’t entirely sane so maybe punching someone was his equivalence of hugging someone. He never did manage to distinguish between two kinds of punching.

 

“Fine. So I might be a _little_ gayer than I thought.” Jason grumped.

 

“Well, does that change anything? You liking dudes?” Roy asked. Jason thought about it. Nah, it didn’t, not really. Well, it did but it was not in a negative way. It just meant a more interesting sex life for Jason. He wasn’t entirely against that. Jason let out a grunt. Roy must have found that reassuring because he didn’t press the matter anymore.

 

“Jason.” Roy suddenly said, his voice took on a surprisingly serious quality. “I know I’m shit at giving advice, but don’t… don’t just jump the gun with the first guy you like. You are undercover. Mixing feelings and missions equals epic failure of epic proportions. Trust me, I know. I mean, I have a child to prove it, not that Lian isn’t the best thing that has ever happened to me but still…”

 

Jason rolled his eyes. “I _know_.” He groaned. “I’m not incompetent, you know. I had this drill before. I know sooner or later, preferably sooner actually, I will have to put a bullet between his pretty, pretty eyes.” Jason sighed, kicking his useless ball of blanket. It flopped.

 

“Well, as long as you realize that.” Roy said between a mighty yawn. Jason checked his watch. Shit, it was too early for this shit. “You know what, after you finish that mission, how about you and I go for a drink? Just like old times.” Roy suggested.

 

Jason nodded absently, plucking a loose thread on his pillow. “Yeah, that sounds good. I haven’t seen Lian in forever.” He said. “You’re a good friend, Roy. Even if you are a pain in the ass most of the times.” The admittance felt right.

 

“Sentiments at 3 AM, Todd? You’re getting soft.” Roy smirked and Jason felt his eyebrows twitch in irritation.

 

“Screw you, Harper. Screw. You.” Jason glared at the phone. He wanted to smack that face. Jason paused. He felt like he needed to add something though. “And just for your information, fantasizing about Dick was totally the hormones talking.” He said after a moment. Roy’s laugh echoed his statement and Jason abruptly ended the phone call, his friend’s laughter ringing in his ears. His friends were assholes. All of them.

 

* * *

 

Jason was doing his research when the burner phone rang. Cursing loudly, the man jolted down the last few notes before he reached forward to grab the phone. The meeting wasn’t until another few days. He was fairly certain that the information he had given was correct so there was no way he could receive a phone call in the morning like this. “Yeah? Zach’s speaking.” Jason absently answered, re-reading the note he had just written.

 

_The names " John Doe" or "John Roe" for men, "Jane Doe" or "Jane Roe" for women, "Johnny Doe" and "Janie Doe" for children, or just "Doe" non-gender-specifically are used as placeholder names for a party whose true identity is unknown or must be withheld in a legal action, case, or discussion. The names are also used to refer to a corpse or hospital patient whose identity is unknown._

 

“ _Zachary_.” A voice said his (fake) name and Jason dropped the pen that he was holding against his chin. It was slightly distorted because of the phone call but it was undoubtedly John’s. Jason would know. He had gotten off to the fantasy of the voice’s owner.

 

“John.” Jason greeted. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked, snapping the notebook shut and turned off the laptop. He shoved all of his research materials in a hidden compartment before carefully locking it.

 

“I need you to pick me up.” John said after a beat. Jason’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Not that he wasn’t against the idea per se…

 

“Well, that’s _very_ straight forward of you.” Jason couldn’t help but say, smirking as he twirled the pen between his fingers. “Should I bring flowers?”

 

John’s answer was a soft chuckle. “Very funny but no.” John replied. “The Boss was _very_ pleased with the information you provided so he tasked me with looking around for an appropriate location. What’s a better way to do it than with a Gothamite?” John explained. Ah, that made sense. Still…

 

“Alright. Tell me where and when then.” Jason said, pulling a stack of stick notes toward him and leaned forward, waiting for John to tell him the address.

 

“The coffee shop in front of Wayne Enterprise at Marble Arch Crescent in an hour.” John answered but his voice was somewhat muffled. There was an odd background noise. Jason’s eyebrows furrowed, trying to make out the sound. The address stirred something in his memories though and the image Jason had in mind was of a _tacky_ coffee shop named _Meow_.

 

“… Are you at that cat coffee shop?” Jason asked suspiciously. His suspicion was confirmed when there was another muffled purr on the other side.

 

“… Yeah? Is there a problem with that?” John asked, his voice was a bit defensive. Well, Jason supposed he had the right to be defensive. Jason would be, too if he was caught in a cat coffee shop.

 

“No,” Jason snorted. “I’ll be there in an hour.” He answered finally. Jason couldn’t imagine a mobster willingly walk to a cat coffee shop without having a gun pointed at their back. Granted, John Doe wasn’t like most mobsters Jason had met.

 

So far, Jason still hadn’t decided if it was a good thing or not.

 

* * *

 

Jason arrived at the coffee shop 15 minutes earlier than expected of him. In his defense, he was curious. After asking a waitress about a man with long hair, Jason was pointed to the right direction. It didn’t take long to find John among the people and felines. Jason approached the other man.

 

Even among a group of strangers, John stood out. There was just something different about him, something that drew people to him and yet, keeping them at a safe distance. He was like an idol, beautiful but untouchable. The skin condition or his eyes didn’t lessen his beauty in the slightest. If anything, they emphasized his unique characteristics.

 

John was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by a bunch of attention seeking cats. He seemed to be delighted to give them all the attention they wanted though, chuckling soundlessly at a little kitty attempting to swipe at his pony tail.

 

Jason decided to make himself known by clearing his throat, dropping down on his knees as well. “Well hello there.” He said, looking at the cats. He didn’t deal with pets well. He moved around too much to take care of them. He tried potted plants once. It didn’t work out. Feeding strays and keeping pets were two very different things… But still… How hard could it be to play with cats?

 

Jason picked up a cat, holding it up by its… armpits? Were cats’ armpits called armpits? The cat he picked, however, was highly unamused at the treatment. It hissed angrily at him, clawed paws reaching out to slap his face. “Ouch! Fuck! Get this demon off of me!” Jason cried, dropping the cat at the sudden attack and watched as it darted away under a table. It hissed at him, yellow eyes narrowed angrily. The cat reminded him of another demon spawn he knew. Impossible to please and entirely too unpleasant to be around.

 

 Jason glared at John who was doing the silent laughing thing that he did again. “Don’t. Not _one_ word.” Jason warned.

 

John’s eyes were alight with mirth. “I didn’t say anything.” He said innocently. Yeah, right. And Joker was Batman’s best friend. “You came early. Are we leaving right now?” John asked, index finger trailing down the spine of another cat, watching as it arched in pleasure, purring loudly.

 

Jason wanted to say ‘hell yeah’ because fuck that, it was like half of Gotham had witnessed his embarrassing episode with the demon cat but he couldn’t find the words. Not when John was smiling faintly and his eyes softened with warmth.

 

Shit, he _hated_ crushing on someone.

 

“No. We can stay a bit longer if you want.” Jason offered, watching the corners of John’s lips widened just a fraction more. He hummed something under his breath, obviously pleased. It did things to Jason’s stomach. Fucking butterflies.

 

* * *

 

 

In the end, they stayed for a whole more hour. At some points, Jason had retreated to safety with a mug of black coffee in his hand, watching John from afar. When the pair left, Jason decided to voice his question. “For someone with your unique… occupation, you seem pretty peaceful.” He said like it was a statement, not the question that he wanted to ask ‘Why are you doing this when you are obviously better at being _kind_?’

 

John shrugged but Jason’s trained eyes could detect the tenseness in his movements. It was subtle, but it was there. “I don’t enjoy unnecessary violence.” John said finally. It wasn’t really an answer. It was not the answer Jason was looking for at all.

 

“Oh?” Jason inquired, pushing but not too much. He didn’t want to spook him into closing up completely. That would be counterproductive to his cause. He handed John a biker helmet before putting on his own.

 

John, once again, just shrugged. Jason accepted defeat this time. It seemed it was the most that he was going to get at this point of time. He would have to get John to open up more at some other time then.

 

“Before we go, what are you looking for? I just can’t take you to random places. The idea _is_ tempting though.” Jason joked. John asserted Jason for a moment, his eyes gazed steadily into Jason’s. Jason looked back, not breaking the contact. Jason was drawn to the deeper blue one of the two eyes. It was a color that he had intimated familiarity with. Most of his adopted ‘family’ had blue eyes. Different shades, yes, but essentially, it was the color blue. John’s eye reminded him of something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Laughter, wind, a rush of jealousy, flying, flying, _flying_ …

 

John finally broke eye contact and Jason realized that he was staring openly. He cleared his throat awkwardly but John beat him to it. “We are primarily looking for a place to store our goods. Preferably, the place ought to be secluded but easy enough to access, near the port, somewhere we can obtain legally so people won’t question.” John listed.

 

“I think I have several places in mind.” Jason said, pretending that the few previous minutes didn’t happen. “Do you want me to take you to those places now? See which one you fancy?”

 

John mused. “Get a map first. I want to see the places on the map before you take me there. I can’t tell my boss without proof to back me up.” He said. “Will that be too much troubled?” He asked quietly.

 

“Of course not. That’s understandable. Let me buy one then I can point out the places.” Jason said, getting on his bike. John followed his lead, arms placing lightly on Jason’s hips, ghosting over his belt. Jason swallowed. He mentally chanted ‘ _Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it_ ’ as John practically wrapped around Jason.

 

The ride to the bookstore was torturous because _of course_ , Jason’s dick betrayed him and thought about it. Jason briefly entertained the idea of flirting more with John but then held back somewhat. He told Roy he wasn’t incompetent. “Well, here we are. You mind waiting here?” Jason asked.

 

“I want to come, too.” John protested. Jason shrugged. No harm in it, he supposed. He pushed open the door for John, earning a brief glare as if John was scolding him for treating him like he was a girl. The other man, however, immediately zoomed in a bookshelf and when Jason asked, he was dismissed with an absent wave.

 

 _Alright then_.

 

* * *

 

When Jason came back with a map of Gotham, John was reading a book, flipping through the pages rapidly and once in a while, he would pause and laugh softly to himself. There was absolutely no sound coming from him but his eyes lit up slightly and the corners of his lips would tug upward a bit more.

 

Jason bit his own lip. Shit, Todd, you had it _bad_. “Hey, whatcha reading?” He asked curiously, approaching John. John lowered the book, his fingers spread the pages open.

 

“Why don’t some couples go to the gym?” John asked suddenly, out of nowhere and with a complete straight face. Jason blanched. What the hell kinda random question was that? It didn’t make any sense! _What_ was he reading?

 

“What the hell are you _talking_ about? Because they don’t want to? How am I supposed to know?” Jason voiced his confusion. He was pretty damn sure his whole body language was screaming ‘I’m confused’. He watched as John tilted his head slightly, nodding to himself in satisfaction before leaning in like he was telling Jason some top notched secrets. Jason couldn’t help but lean in as well, wanting to hear what John had to say.

 

“…Because some relationships don’t work out.” John finished and then he actually had the galls to grin at Jason. Jason, for his part, blanched a second time. This time it was topped with a facepalm. John, the bastard, just looked extremely smug by Jason’s reaction.

 

“You bastard.” Jason gasped, feeling mad at himself for falling for it. “You absolute bastard. I _hate_ you.” He said, groaning loudly when it only further encouraged John.

 

“Have you ever tried eating a clock? It’s very time consuming.” John continued, absolutely shameless. Why? Why did Jason’s dick decide that this was the one to have a crush on? This was so torturous. Jason looked up at John again, opening his mouth to tell John to ‘ _stop_ ’ but then he was shocked silent.

 

Suddenly, standing in front of him wasn’t John Doe anymore, it was Dick Grayson, telling him one of his stupid jokes and generally being an obnoxious asshole. But then Jason blinked and it was John again, grinning to himself. Jason shot Harper a mental curse. This was entirely his fault for reminding Jason of Dick earlier.

 

“I’m getting this book.” John announced firmly. He held the book up and yep, here it was. Jason could see the title. It was a book about puns. “It’s brilliant.” The shorter man said, patting the book like it was something precious to be treasured.

 

“Oh God. So help me if you start making puns in front of me.” Jason groaned but he mostly was just joking. It was obvious that John was easy to be happy but it was hard to actually make him voice his happiness. If a stupid book about puns was going to make him at least laugh, Jason didn’t have any rights to stop him.

 

John shrugged and walked away to pay for the book, making Jason _watch_ again. But damn if that was not one fine piece of ass.

 

* * *

 

The two of them was in front of the bookstore and Jason was spreading the map out, smoothing down the corners with his big, callus hand. “So I was thinking…” Jason tilted his face, studying the map. “How about-“

 

But Jason never did get a chance to finish because as soon as John’s eyes landed on the map, he began pointing his index fingers at seemingly random spots. “This one, this one and this one. This place also has potential.” He said decisively. John looked up at Jason for approval. “Your thoughts?”

 

Jason blinked. “What?” He asked before he realized that John had pointed to various warehouses on the map. He looked down and studied the spots. The choices were good… Almost scarily good. These were the places Jason would have chosen for himself if he had to store something. In fact, one of the places was one of Jason’s safe houses. But how would John, someone who seemed to be so new to Gotham to the point that he needed Jason’s help, already know the places that only Gothamites knew? What was the point in asking for help then? Or was John just _that_ good?

 

Shit. That was a scary thought. Jason signed up to deal with a bunch of mobsters, not a genius. It was more Replacement’s job than his. If that was really the case, he would need backup. Or maybe this was just one giant test? Damn, John was giving him whiplashes.

 

Realizing that John was still waiting for an answer, Jason cleared his throat. “Ah, well, they are all good spots.” John beamed. “But this place.” Jason tapped the first spot. “It already belonged to another gang, the Falcone’s. Have you heard of them?” Jason asked and John shrugged but didn’t answer.

 

“And this place. It belongs to Wayne. Well, not yet. But he has been scouting it out.” That was a blatant lie but John didn’t need to know that. If John was aiming for it, Jason needed to clear out his safehouse. _Fast_. He glanced at John who appeared puzzled for a moment.

 

“Were you born in Gotham?” Jason finally asked and John jerked his head up to look at Jason, a humorless smile graced his lips. He let out a dry chuckle.

 

“If I were, my parents didn’t stick around long enough to let me know.” John answered. Jason had a feeling that there was more to it than that but he wasn’t going to push. Not yet anyway. “Wayne though…? Isn’t he controlling Gotham’s economy?” John continued, something flashed too fast for Jason to catch.

 

Jason was anything if not persistent though and if Bruce’s name produced a reaction, well, he was going to push for more. “Yeah, Bruce Wayne, the playboy, he appears on papers all the time, has a really unhealthy love for little boys.” Jason grinned. “What? You have a crush on him or something?” And yep, here it was. Another flash of something. “I’m sorry to inform you that unless you are little boys with black hair and blue eyes or hot models, you are out of luck. If you were like 10 years younger, then maybe he would adopt you.” It was petty of him to trash talk Bruce, but hell if it didn't feel good. Jason wasn't aiming to win Citizen of the Year anyway.

 

John’s face darkened slightly and he turned away. Interesting. What if Bruce Wayne had done something that indirectly affected John? He needed to look into it later when he had free time. Any possible connections. “Rich people are all rotten.” John said quietly, picking the map from Jason’s hands and began to fold it.

 

“We don’t really have room to judge, with what we do and all that.” Jason said breezily. He didn’t expect to be suddenly pinned on the spot with an angry, intense glare. The glare was even more affective because of John’s eyes. He also didn’t expect John to invade his space so suddenly, face pressing way too close. He could feel slightly ragged breaths beating against his skin. John was trying not to snap.

 

“No. _You_ are the one that has no room to judge, Mr. I will do anything for money.” John said, passionate and forceful. He was no longer the mildly pleasant man that Jason had met earlier. This was different. This was something _new_. “What we do… What _I_ do… is _different_.” John stalked away and Jason watched, fascinated by the anger that radiated from him. What could possibly trigger him that badly?

 

“Organized crimes are better than total chaos.” John said suddenly, quietly, his voice carried total conviction. Jason stared. He didn’t even have to pretend to look wide-eyed. Suddenly, there John was, being seen under a new light. What he was doing… He was trying to control _evil_ within the abyss itself.

 

 _Fascinating_.

 

In another life, perhaps John would have better suit being a hero, a _vigilante_ than a mobster because he wasn’t a bad person. At least, not the evil, unredeemable villains that often met the end of Jason’s bullets. No, this man was like Jason. While Jason thrived on being a hero with a villainous side, this man was the same, yet opposite. He was a villain with heroic tendencies.

 

Jason wanted to know what had pushed John to be a villain. What had made him snap. He _wanted_ to know. It was for the mission and it was also personal, this was a puzzle that Jason would be delighted to solve.

 

John misinterpreted the wide eyed look on Jason’s face as fear because he stepped back. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I don’t want to discuss this anymore.” He said quietly, keeping his emotions tightly under his control.

 

Jason broke out of the trance. “Ah. Yeah. It’s no big deal.” He hurriedly said, putting the mask of Zachary Taylor back in place. “It was my fault for poking my nose into your business.” He looked at John, gesturing toward the folded map. “Shall we leave then?” He asked.

 

John nodded.

 

* * *

 

They arrived at the first location in silence. John seemed to have retreated into himself, putting on a mask of politeness and pleasant smiles. Jason had begun to see through it. It was the first step to crack the code. You had to look pass what was in front of you to really see what was happening. “So, what do you think?” Jason asked.

 

John turned around to look at Jason before his shoulders rose and dipped slightly. “I don’t have any authority to make any decisions. I see and I report.” He answered bluntly. John looked back at the warehouse, taking a few steps forward.

 

“So, may I be divulged in whatever you see?” Jason pushed. John didn’t look impressed by his attempts in the slightest. He did, however, manage a tiny smile.

 

“No, you may not. It’s above your pay grade.” And that was the end of their conversation. John didn’t say anything else and Jason didn’t know how to break the silence. Zachary Taylor was supposed to understand the needs for discreet. He wouldn’t have pushed directly for more if the information was denied. He would have found another way to get what he wanted.

 

“So…” Jason started up again after a whole fifteen minutes of walking around with John who seemed to just go wherever aimlessly. “… Can I interest you in a drink… you know, after work?” He asked. He reminded himself firmly that this was not him getting ‘involved’ with the mission. This was him fishing for more information when the other was drunk. Alcohols loosened inhibitions.

 

John shot Jason a sympathetic look. “You can’t stay quiet for very long, can you?” He asked. Jason resisted the urge to defend himself. He wasn’t the talkative type, not really. That was more Dick Grayson’s territory than his. The other could chatter nonstop, from one topic to another at random, mixing in with a joke or two (The jokes were all _bad_ though.) Jason was a bit of a loner. Still, there was something unnerving about the silence between him and John. It wasn’t anything uncomfortable or tense, but when John was silent, he seemed lost inside his own head.

 

If there was something Jason knew all too well, it would be the torment of being lost in your own head, plague by nightmares of blood stains and cramped spaces and pain, so much _pain_. A sickening crack of broken bones and the roaring anger that drowned out the cries of ‘ _Why didn’t you_ do _something?_ Why _didn’t you?!_ ’ “I didn’t come to Gotham to play the dating games.” John’s voice broke Jason free from the memories’ hold. Oh, they were talking about that drink. Right. Jason focused on John who seemed to smile patiently at Jason, looking apologetic.

 

“Really?” Jason managed after a beat. He hoped he didn’t look too disappointed by the answer. “…That’s a shame because… the last time we met you seemed… interested.” He said at last. It was true. John did seem more than willing to play along with ‘Zach’s flirty comments. Jason didn’t know if he was sorry for the lost opportunities or be glad.

 

“Relationships and I… We don’t talk face to face.” John answered dryly. He laid a palm flat on Jason’s chest and Jason swallowed visibly. John seemed pleased by the reaction. “Plus, mixing work with pleasure is bad work ethics. No matter how _cute_ you are.”

 

“Are there any ways I can possibly change your mind then?” Jason asked. He wasn’t about to give up, not without a fight. “We don’t have to mix work in if you don’t want to.” Jason didn’t need to. He had traveled the _world_ to learn skills needed for such a thing. People got sloppy. They always did. One way or another, John would surely _slip_. It was those slips that were dangerous. They were what Jason was counting on.

 

John pursed his lips. “Persistent, hmm? Very well.” The shorter man tapped his chin with his index finger. He looked thoughtful. “Fine. If you manage to impress me using one sentence, I will consider getting a drink with you.” He settled.

 

Jason’s mind stuttered for a bit. “What? You want me to… impress you?” He asked. That wasn’t how it was usually done. Jason wasn’t the Red Hood right now. Nor was he undercover as anyone _impressive_. He would have to impress John Doe using what Zachary Taylor had. The list that Zachary Taylor had or had done wasn’t long.

 

“Uh huh. You heard me. Impress me and I’ll see about that drink.” John nodded. He seemed pleased with himself. Jason could understand it. Zach didn’t have anything that could impress John. Jason would have to improvise… But how to do it was the real challenge. Money wouldn’t impress him (probably not?)… Hmmm…

 

John waited patiently by Jason’s side as the other searched for something, anything to say. Finally, like a light bulb going off, Jason had an idea. It was probably the stupidest idea he had in a while but whatever, he didn’t know what else that could _impress_ a mobster. “Okay, so listen.” Jason began. John nodded, gesturing his hand for Jason to go on.

 

“What kinda car does a goldfish like?” Jason said, feeling immensely stupid the moment the saying left his mouth. He waited for a beat, watching John’s eyebrows furrow together. “… A tank.” Jason said bluntly, quickly to get it over with.

 

Silence met his answer.

 

Jason turned to look at John, studying his expression. John looked completely blank and for one moment, Jason thought he probably had failed rather spectacularly. What was he thinking? A pun? A _bad_ pun, even. This was the most idiotic idea he had ever had. And Jason had done a lot of stupid things in his short life.

 

However, it seemed Jason’s fears were unfounded because the corners of John’s eyes crinkled and his entire composure broke. Then there were sounds. Soft, choked out laughter forced his way out of John and the other covered his mouth, trying to stiffen the sounds. Jason sort of wanted to uncover John’s lips. No one ought to silent their laughter. No one should have been forced to do so.

 

It took awhile for John’s quiet snickering to die down. “Okay. Okay you passed. With flying colors.” John gasped softly, soft sounds left his lips once awhile. “No one has ever said that, just so you know.” He chuckled. “Though I remember a very close second. He said he had a 12 inch dick.” He grinned. Jason involuntarily laughed.

 

“That sounds painful. And fake.” He retorted. John snorted and gave Jason’s shoulder a soft push. It was nothing more than a friendly nudge but it warmed Jason’s stomach.

 

“Yeah well, he invited me to find out how fake his statement was. I couldn’t say no.” John grinned. “Well then, Mr. Taylor. It seems you have achieved what you want. Are you happy now?” He asked.

 

Jason didn’t even hesitate. “Very.” He said. He would have said something more but then, John’s index finger was suddenly on his lips, silencing him. Jason’s heart beat wildly but he tried to listen.

 

There was a soft sound.

 

John must have picked up the sound as well because his finger trailed from Jason’s lips to his chest and John gave Jason a subtle push, stepping in front of Jason. Right, Zachary Taylor couldn’t defend himself.

 

Jason studied John’s back. His entire body language had changed in a blink of an eye. Gone was the man who played with cats and told bad jokes. The being in front of him was not some meek thing that could be intimidated. He was the prowling predator that Jason had met the first time at that strip club. John parted his legs slightly, widening his stance. His hands curled and twitched. He tilted his face slightly, his body seemed to relax but to Jason’s well-trained eyes, he could see John coiling tightly to himself, ready to bounce on the enemy.

 

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.” A voice drawled. Jason’s eyes narrowed. “Hand over your money and we _might_ let you walk free with only a few bruises, pretty boys.”

 

 _Trouble_ was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jason got bitch-slapped by a cat gives me life. I'm weird that way. Ah, a writing tip for y'all... If you need a road name and don't know any and have to use a name generator, don't type in 'Street name generator'. I had an... experience. Needless to say, 'Greasy Thumb' doesn't make a good **road** name.
> 
> So.. Guys, what do you think? You guys like it?
> 
> P/S: Dick Grayson wouldn't be Dick Grayson without the bad jokes. I'm just sayin'.


	4. Don’t fuck with John motherfucking Doe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I messed up the fight scene. Can I at least get an 'I tried' star though? I really did try. I hope you guys are okay with my failed attempt at writing martial arts. Also, for those who practice martial arts and see all my screw-ups. I'm sorry :( I don't know anything about this. This story contains a lot of firsts for me.

Jason stood behind John in silence, anticipation churned in his stomach just like every time a fight was about to happen. His eyes dragged down John’s body to finally land on his belt. He spotted a short stick, roughly around 13-14 inches tied to the belt. ‘ _Stick, huh_?...’ Jason mused, glancing up at the approaching figures.

 

The two thugs sauntered until they stood in front of them, gripping the switchblades threateningly. ‘ _Amateurs_.’ Was Jason’s first thought when he noticed the clumsy grip the thugs had on the weapons.  Thug One was a scrawny thing with tattoos all over his arms, his clothes were torn at places and Jason resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose at the sour smell coming from him. Thug Two was a tiny bit more well-built with lips piercings and eyebrows piercings. At least he didn’t smell as bad. Jason thought that was an improvement.

 

In his line of work, Jason had come to respect fighters who didn’t appear threatening at first glance. It was those that held more power, the ones that didn’t need to _look_ intimidating to put fear in people. Two shining examples were Slade Wilson, Deathstroke the Terminator and Bruce Wayne, aka Batman. Jason had met both men, and they never looked anything like these two thugs and yet, their enemies had nightmares about them.

 

Jason focused back on John who still looked relaxed, his muscles didn’t so much as twitch when the thugs stopped walking and his face remained pleasantly impassive when Thug One pointed a knife to his chest. Jason had a feeling this John was another fighter that could _potentially_ earn Jason’s respect.

 

“If you put the knives down and walk away, we’ll forget this ever happened.” John said finally, wiping at his face when the two stupid thugs just laughed obnoxiously, their spit was all over the place.

 

“Look, girly. I don’t know how retarded you are but in case it escaped your notice, we are the ones with knives and you are the ones being mugged.” Thug One said, knife waving breezily in random pattern as if trying to decide where to stab John. ‘ _Idiot_.’ Jason thought in irritation. If they were going to mug someone, they could at least do the job right.

 

Thug Two leered lecherously up and down John’s body. “Too bad you look like a freak, I wouldn’t mind your pretty lips wrapping around my cock.” He purred. Jason’s skin crawled with disgust and anger as Thug Two leaned closer, breathing his smelly breaths on John’s face.

 

John finally showed some visible reactions. He tensed. “I will not say this again. Last chance. Leave. Or else.” His voice had dropped to a dangerous level, icy anger and a promise of violence, the type that would make smart people back down. The two thugs, however, didn’t seem to take John seriously and they laughed at his threat.

 

Then it happened.

 

One moment, John was standing in front of Jason, back against him, the next, he already side stepped, the stick was in his hand in one fluid movement. He raised the weapon and blocked the upcoming attack, the clash of metal against metal created a high pitched noise that sounded like war drums in Jason’s ear. John’s weapon was an escrima stick. _Jason finally realized_.

 

“Your funeral.” John said calmly.

 

He bounced.

 

Thug One lunged the knife toward John, screaming in anger. His movement was clumsy, uncoordinated. John’s stick easily stopped the attack. He flicked his wrist, and with one sharp jerk, his weapon slammed against the outer side of Thug One’s wrist. It was a clash of metal against bone this time.

 

Metal won.

 

“Fuck!!!” Thug One howled in pain, his fingers slackened and the knife fell on the ground uselessly. John stepped on the blade and kicked it backward, far away from Thug One’s reach. He slammed the end of the stick to Thug One’s neck, knocking him out completely.

 

He turned to Thug Two and smirked. He raised his index and middle finger.

 

‘ _Come get me_.’ John’s fingers beckoned. Thug Two hesitated. He obviously realized that this was not a part of their plan, and that John was much stronger than poor sobs that they were used to bullying... Still, anger and pride blinded the idiotic thug.

 

Thug Two let out a loud cry and thrust his knife, trying to stab his opponent. He made a swipe at John who just ducked low to avoid the slashing motion. Both of John’s hands were on the two ends of the escrima stick as he slammed the length forward to Thug Two’s unprotected stomach. Thug Two doubled in pain.

 

John’s leg kicked upward, knee slamming against Thug Two’s stomach for a second time. This time, Thug Two dropped on his knees, the knife left his grip. John looked down at him coldly and he raised his leg before stomping down on the hand that was scrambling to get the weapon.

 

John ground his foot.

 

The sickening _CRACK_ that followed after was drowned out by the scream Thug Two gave. John grabbed his hair and jerked his head back, holding the stick to his neck. “I told you. Your funeral.” John said quietly. His breathing didn’t even change after the work out.

 

Thug Two panted heavily, his eyes widened in fear.

 

John hummed, pleased. “Now, there are two options for you to choose from. Option one, you apologize to my friend and to me and I won’t have to use any more violence on you and you can walk away with your knocked out friend over there. Or… Option two, you remain stubborn and I will be forced to… unleash some more unnecessary violence until you do apologize. Unfortunately, I’m not sure if you can walk away afterward. So what is it going to be?”

 

Thug Two opened and closed his mouth several times, seemingly too afraid to speak. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry please don’t hurt me!” Thug Two cried out.

 

John smiled. “It’s not only me whom you should apologize to, you know.” He said pleasantly like he was discussing the weather.

 

Thug Two turned to Jason, his eyes were pleading and there was a very distinctive smell. Jason’s eyes dropped low automatically, his face twisted in disgust when he saw a wet spot. _Great_ , Thug Two pissed his pants. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He cried.

 

Jason grimaced. “Yeah, okay.” He muttered, looking at John. John just shrugged and released the death grip he had on Thug Two’s hair.

 

“ _Scram._ ” John said, watching as Thug Two practically abandoned his ‘friend’, running for his life. What a coward. John collected Thug Two’s knife and after a short inspection, he handed it to Jason. “You should keep it, to protect yourself.”

 

Jason broke out of his trance, accepting the knife dumbly. It wasn’t often that he heard people said that to him. Usually, people wanted to protect others _from_ him, not the other way around. “Um…” His words stuck and Jason gestured toward the stick that was still in John’s hand.

 

John avoided Jason’s eyes from shame or embarrassment, Jason didn’t know. “It’s an escrima stick… It’s… my weapon.” He mumbled. John put the stick away, tying it back to his belt. “I didn’t scare you, did I?” He asked worriedly, looking at Jason as if he was really afraid Jason wouldn’t want to be around him anymore.

 

Jason shook his head. “No… It was… I wasn’t scared. Your fighting style… I haven’t seen it before. It's... strange.” He said. It was a lie. A _lie_. Jason had seen it. He was familiar with it. He hated it. He loved it. He had battled against that style. He had tried to mimic that style. He had failed to do so. He had…

 

How the _fuck_ did John motherfucking Doe know _Dick Grayson_ ’s fighting style?!

 

John cleared his throat. “Ah well…” He seemed clearly embarrassed and uncomfortable with where the conversation was going. Jason just wanted to _know_. “I learned from several people, different styles… I mashed it up a bit until I have something I’m comfortable with.” John said, glancing down at his feet. Jason narrowed his eyes very slightly.

 

Well, it wasn’t entirely _impossible_ for someone to mix styles. However, it was certainly _rare_. Rare enough that the chance to see someone with a mix between Aikido and Escrima among with hints of a dozen more similar to Nightwing was practically _zero_.

 

Could it really be coincidence? The chance was _nearly_ zero, not _actually_ zero. Was he looking too much into this? There were moves that were similar in different styles, maybe it wasn’t actually Aikido and Escrima. Maybe it was something else and Jason was just being a paranoid bastard. Nightwing used two of those sticks, John Doe used _one_. There was no reason for John Doe to be related to anything _Nightwing_.

 

Nightwing was dead. Blown to bits.

 

Just like Jason himself.

 

And look at who was standing right now. _Jason fucking Todd._

 

 _Fuck_.

 

Jason mentally gave himself a shake. He needed to pull himself together. This was too absurd. The moves just looked similar. That was _all_. That was all there was to it. Jason was being _dumb_. “Zach?” John called and Jason realized he had zoned out.

 

“Yeah?” Jason asked, focusing on _John Doe_.

 

“You zoned out for a moment there. What were you thinking?” John asked and fuck, Jason needed to stop thinking about Dick Grayson before he started making stupid connections that weren’t actually _there_. Jason swallowed and pushed the thought away as far back as possible. He gestured toward the unconscious thug.

 

“So… What do we do with him?” Jason found himself asking. “I was just thinking that it would be a drag to… um… dispose of his body.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I guess you being… well, I guess you would know how to do it effectively.” He mumbled, forcing himself to act like Zachary Taylor even though he just wanted to act like Jason Todd right now.

 

John actually chuckled. “Zachary. You watched too many mobster flicks. We don’t actually kill elderly people and eat children. There’s no reason for me to kill _him_.” The ‘him’ was said with extreme distaste. “Law enforcement will be involved if there’s a corpse and then this location will be compromised.” He explained.

 

Jason swallowed. “Oh. I see. That makes sense.” He said, shifting awkwardly.

 

“Plus, I told you. I don’t _like_ unnecessary violence.” John said fondly, looking at Jason like he was an endearing puppy that was chewing on a sock. A naughty, but endearing puppy.

 

Jason frowned. “But I thought you said you did… Um… pest control?” He asked. If John couldn’t even end someone’s life, how could he complete a job that required exactly just that? The ability to end one’s life?

 

John shrugged. “I don’t like unnecessary violence. It doesn’t mean I can’t deliver it or don’t have the stomach for it. I have ended lives before. I will not hesitate to do so again.” He ran a hand through his hair, pulling out the hair tie and redid his hair. “Plus, I don’t consider putting down rats _unnecessary_ violence.”

 

Jason nodded slowly. He understood the logics behind those words.

 

John sighed. “You are afraid of me now, aren’t you.” It was more of a statement than a question. He shrugged like he had expected the reaction, wiping his hands in his jeans as if he was trying to clean them off the blood that wasn’t there. “Let’s get to the other location.”

 

Jason felt the immediate need to fix John’s misunderstanding. He stepped forward boldly and grabbed both sides of John’s shoulders. Beneath his fingers, Jason felt John tense up. “John. John, _listen to me_. I’m not scared, okay? I have seen violence before.” ‘ _And have done some violent shit as well._ ’ Jason mentally added in his mind. “God knows my line of work means I have seen some ugly shit. I. Am. _Not_. Scared.” He emphasized.

 

“I don’t give a shit how many people you have killed, okay? Stop thinking I can be scared away so easily.” Jason didn’t care about that, _honestly_. He just cared that John Doe was a villain, not that he had killed. If Jason had cared about the later, he wouldn’t have been the black sheep of the family.

 

John stared at Jason.

 

Jason stared back.

 

John smiled. It was warm. “For a scumbag informant, you are okay, Mr. Taylor.” He said, shrugging off Jason’s hands. He pushed Jason away lightly but not unkindly. “Who knows, maybe I will break my no dating in Gotham rule just for you.” He threw over his shoulder as he walked away.

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of the trip wasn’t all that exciting. There were no more mugging attempts, and the two of them made random small talks until it was obvious time for them to part way. Jason stood awkwardly in front of John. “So…” He began, unsurely. “About that drink…”

 

John laughed silently, placing a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “About that drink. I told you, I don’t come _cheap_. Take me to a _nice_ bar. I have enough of shady bars to last a life time.” He said. John pulled his hand away and Jason secretly mourned at the loss of contact.

 

“Okay. Yeah. I can do that.” Jason said. “Are you free this Friday?” He asked. He felt clumsy and out of elements with this. It wasn’t as if he had never had _dates_ before. (He had dates before, just not _often_ , okay?... Okay, he lied. His dates were usually one night stands.) He just never had dates with _males_ before. He didn’t know what to do. Were flowers still a thing? Should he bring _flowers_ to a fucking _mobster_? And why the hell was he doing exactly the opposite thing Roy wanted him to do?

 

John, for his part, was completely oblivious to Jason’s mental struggle. He took his phone and flipped through the calendar, checking his schedule. “I _should_ be free Friday night. But there’s always the probability that emergencies come up and I have to deal with it. But as far as schedule goes, I’d say this Friday is good.” He said.

 

“Oh. That’s… that’s good.” Jason said. “I’ll come pick you up at… 7?” He asked uncertainly.

 

John chuckled, finally catching onto his nervousness. “I don’t bite… Not usually anyway. You can pick me up at 7. I’m staying at Sheraton hotel on Morril Grove.” He took Jason’s hand and pulled a pen out of nowhere, writing on the back of his hand. “Room 2501.” He mumbled as he wrote. “I expect punctuation.” John said.

 

Jason stared down at the words on his hand. “You don’t have a place to live yet?” He asked.

 

John chuckled. “I don’t. It’s not the first time we have inspected Gotham, certainly not the last, but like the other times, there’s no need for a steady place to live, a hotel room works just fine.” He explained.

 

“Oh.” Was Jason’s very intelligent response.

 

John gave Jason an indulging smile. “Now, Mr. Taylor. I believe our ‘playdate’ is over. Do you mind taking me back to the hotel or should I take a taxi?” He asked, and Jason, being the gentleman that he was, offered to take John back.

 

The smile John gave him made Jason’s stomach lurched with nervousness again. It was a nice type of nervousness.

 

* * *

 

Jason perched on top of a building that night, out of uniform but he was so high up he was sure no one noticed. He had a lot in his mind right now. He needed to think. He needed open space to ponder. He didn’t want to be bothered by anyone right now. Not by his landlord, or any petty thieves that roamed Gotham at nights.

 

“Strange seeing you out of uniform.” A voice said behind him and Jason silently cursed his luck. Of course his nice ‘me’ time would be interrupted by one of the bats. He was never that lucky.

 

“What do you want, Replacement?” Jason grunted out, breathing out a wisp of white smoke, tapping the cancer stick to the side of the building, watching the ash being blown away by the night wind. “Go away.” He grumbled. He wasn’t in the mood to pick a fight right now.

 

“Nothing. Can’t we just talk like normal people?” The replacement’s voice still sounded near and Jason resisted the urge to grimace. Great, a bird that wanted to chirp. “Or if not, I can be quiet. It’s a peaceful night tonight. Not a lot of work to do.”

 

“Tch.” Jason made a sound of annoyance. From the corner of his eyes, Jason saw the kid took a seat next to him. So he wasn’t planning on leaving. That was just _great_. “Whatever. Don’t get in my way.” Jason muttered, continuing to enjoy his cigarette in silence.

 

They stayed that way for a while, neither of them spoke a word, listening to the winds howled. It was strangely peaceful. It was probably the longest he had ever spent interacting with the Replacement that he didn’t want to throttle him right there. Nightwing’s death had really changed a lot of people. It made Jason and perhaps even Drake see that their rivalry was a petty thing.

 

After finishing his second cigarette, Jason finally spoke. His voice was raspy, rough from the smoke. “Goldie’s death really was anticlimactic, huh? Not even a body found.” He said, eyeing Tim from the corner of his eyes. He saw the young man’s body tense.

 

“…Yes.” Tim answered after a long stretch of silence. “That’s certainly people’s general opinion.”

 

Jason tilted his head to look at Tim properly. “What about _you_? What is _your_ opinion?” He asked. He wanted to know. He didn’t know why he wanted to know. Maybe he just wanted the family’s genius to confirm that he was crazy. Or perhaps it was something different. He didn’t know.

 

Tim swallowed and Jason could see his adams apple bob. He seemed to be choosing his words. “Your body was found. And here you are.” He said simply. Tim seemed to curl into himself. He seemed smaller, more vulnerable somehow. It was the look of a young man having lost too many things in his life.

 

Well tough luck. Jason was the same. “Yeah well, we already established I’m the freak of the family.” Jason muttered. He took out the third cigarette and lit it, tucking the lighter away. He took another drag. “You are avoiding the question.” Jason said bluntly.

 

Tim turned to look at him. Jason didn’t need to look to know that his eyes had narrowed. “And you have learned how to read between lines.” He answered coldly. Tim shifted to look down at the streets of Gotham, his fingers tapped against the edge he was sitting on like they were typing an unknown code.

 

“You don’t think he’s dead.” Jason spelled it out. Tim’s head jerked. It was not a look of denial. It was a nod. “How long?” Jason asked, his lips curled up in a sardonic smile. It figured. When the Replacement and Jason had the same opinion on something, it had to be about fucking Dick Grayson. It must be because of all the ‘brotherly bonding’ time the former Grayson forced them to participate in.

 

Tim pursed his lips. “Since the beginning.” He answered finally.

 

Jason allowed the rush of nicotine to calm the nerves he didn’t know he had. He rolled the white stick between his teeth, debating on what to say. He didn’t want his so called ‘family’ to stick their overly huge nose in his business. However, he couldn’t deny the fact that Tim was a useful ally to have.

 

“You have a clue.” Tim suddenly said. It was not a question. “Give it to me.” He said, opening his palm. He sounded demanding like the demon spawn. It made Jason want to laugh. That personality must be rubbing off. Or perhaps being demanding was just something all Bats possessed. Bruce was a demanding man as well.

 

“I have a half assed hunch and too many cigarettes.” Jason shot back. “Not gonna get Daddy dearest involved? Are you in your rebellious phase?” He asked mockingly. Tim glared at him angrily. Ah, there was that fire.

 

“Not when he’s finally healing and what you have is not even a _real_ clue.” Tim snapped. “Don’t mistake me for you. You’re the teenager with the rebellious streak in the family.” Jason bit his tongue to stop himself from blowing a hole in Tim’s head.

 

“Be careful, shit face. I’m the one with the clue and a dead bird is a dead bird no matter how brilliant your brain is. Won’t be pretty falling down from here and splattering all over the street.” Jason growled. He sneered at Tim, jabbing his half burning cigarette on the wall, snubbing it.

 

“If I’m giving you what I have, I want in. Anything you know, you share.” Jason finally said. “I don’t give out this from the goodness of my heart.” He continued, his hand itched for something to play with. His whole body was restless. He settled to tap his leg in a rhythm from a song he heard.

 

“Deal.” Tim agreed.

 

Jason rolled his eyes at the speed of the agreement. Anything related to Dick fucking Grayson and the whole family turned into eager puppies. Jason was already regretting his life decisions the moment he opened his mouth to share what he knew with Red Robin. “The Camelio is moving to Gotham. Giovanni Lodato is scouting the area. He brought a pet with him.” He said.

 

Nothing came from Tim. He didn’t seem surprised by the information, merely impatient for the real juicy bits. Ah, so the Bat clan knew about it as well and was planning on making a move themselves. Awesome, he was in another mission that got tangled with the annoying Bats. Could this get any worse? It probably could… Jason’s luck was always shit like that.

 

“Male, black hair, dark skin with white patches of skin mixing in, two eye colors, one baby blue, the other is even lighter. Doesn’t appear to be blind though. Same build as another blue bird we know. Maybe a bit on a thinner side. Good reflex, trained fighter. Fights with an escrima stick.” He said curtly, leaning back a bit to look up at the sky of Gotham. It was polluted with light. It didn’t appear as dark as the nights should be. It was a sickly dark orange that irritated Jason.

 

“Here’s the interesting bit.” Jason finally said. He looked at Tim in the eyes to see his reaction. “His name is John Doe.” He finished.

 

Tim let out a small choke. “You think… You think it’s him?” He asked. His voice was weak. Tim was scared. Jason noted his startled realization and masked it with indifference. “You think it’s Dick?” He asked softly. His voice was choked with hope. Jason wanted to punch him.

 

“Don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. I told you, it’s a half assed _hunch_.” Jason snapped, glaring upward at the night sky again. He didn’t want to see Tim’s eyes.

 

“You have more than that, right? That’s why you’re telling me this… Jason.” Tim called weakly and actually dared to move closer. Jason jerked back from him violently. It shook Tim out of whatever funk he was in and he moved back to his old position, far away from Jason.

 

“Jesus Christ. Get a fucking grip. And stay where you are.” Jason snapped. It was harsh and cruel of him. However, Jason didn’t have the patience to deal with emotional kids right now. He didn’t even know how to process it himself. He was still convinced this was a huge mistake and he was just being stupid. It was Harper’s fault for reminding him of Dick earlier. That was why he saw the connection. That was all.

 

“You know what. It’s stupid. It’s probably nothing.” Jason said, attempting to stand up. Keyword: attempt. He didn’t get the chance because Tim’s hand had latched onto the sleeve of his jacket and Jason’s lightning fast reflex had made him grip the other’s wrist tightly.

 

“It’s not stupid.” Tim said.

 

“Let. Go.” Jason growled, tightening his grip until he knew he was leaving a bruise on the other’s wrist. Fucking hell, Replacement had a girly wrist. He could probably snap it in half. He should. However, something in the other’s eyes stopped him. It made something forgotten in him tingle. Probably that cursed brotherly instinct Dick Grayson tried to instill in him. Or maybe it was pity.

 

Jason softened his voice just slightly. “Look, brat. I told you it’s just a _hunch_ , okay? Plus, I talked to the guy, he didn’t recognize me.” He sighed. “This is so stupid. I didn’t want to involve any Bats in this.” He groaned, shaking his sleeve again but Tim didn’t let go.

 

“Jay. Talk to me.” Tim said. Dammit. Jason internally groaned at the nickname. What if he was just imagining the whole thing? It would be cruel to get the Replacement so worked up over nothing.

 

“I don’t know, okay? I don’t _know_.” Jason said, letting go of Tim’s wrist to run a hand through his hair. He brushed his white lock back, giving his hair a tug in frustration. “I looked at him and I saw Goldie. But then it was not really Goldie at all and it was John all over again. It’s weird.” He said. Finally Tim let go of Jason’s sleeve.

 

Tim huddled into himself. “I still want to follow that lead.” He said quietly after a moment of silence. “Even if it’s another dead end.” Tim looked incredibly young and vulnerable even in his Red Robin uniform, the fluttering cape didn’t make him look imposing in the slightest. Jason cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable. He felt like he had heard something incredibly private. He probably had. That was an admittance that Tim hadn’t come to term with Dick’s death himself. He was still somehow in denial even after three long years.

 

“Alright fine. Don’t cry if it turns out he’s not really who you thought he is.” Jason said. “Why are you so determined anyway? I already said it was just a half assed hunch.” He asked. Jason wouldn’t have been so trusting if he were in Tim’s shoe.

 

“I have to at least find a _body_.” Tim stressed. “I won’t believe he’s dead until then.” He said. “No matter the cost.” He muttered to himself. Jason sighed. Dick would disapprove if he were here. He wouldn’t want his brother to waste his time and energy in this fruitless search. It was a fruitless search. If it wasn’t Tim would have find something by now.

 

“Alright, fine. You asked for it, Replacement.” Jason growled out finally. He gave up. Whatever. If the Replacement wanted to dive in this, he supposed Jason could indulge him. “I’m undercover. Don’t stick your nose in my act.” Jason warned.

 

“I know how this works. Jeez.” Tim grumbled. “Can you bring me any samples? A DNA test is the fastest. We can have a direct evidence.” Tim prompted.

 

“What about you, brat? What are you going to do while I risk my neck getting something for you?” Jason couldn’t help but ask. Tim glared. Apparently, he didn’t like the indication that he was useless or helpless. Jason smirked. It was always fun to rile up the brats.

 

“I will gather information on the Camelio, Giovanni Lodato _and_ John Doe.” Tim huffed out finally. “If… If… If he was who we are looking for, there must be a reason…” He muttered under his breaths.

 

Jason rolled his eyes at Tim’s inability to say Dick’s name. “Well, maybe he just saw the lights and realized he was the big bad wolf at heart.” He mocked. Jason realized it was one step too far when Tim’s head snapped at Jason’s direction so fast Jason thought he heard a small crack.

 

“Never. Ever. Say that again. My _brother_ is ten times the man you will ever be, Hood.” Tim glared. It was a look of anger and hatred. Tim turned away from Jason, his shoulders shook as if he was trying not to punch Jason, or maybe he was holding back tears.

 

Jason swallowed, looking away. Whatever. It was a fucking joke. No need to get so serious. “Tch.” Jason grunted, kicking his feet a little bit. “If it’s really Dick. And this is just an off chance, mind you. Like one in a billion chances. Then I’m going to say it now, that line, you know, the one Bat Dad always scares you to sleep about? That ‘no lethal force’ line? Yeah, he crossed it.” Jason warned. “I thought you should know. He’s no saint anymore.”

 

“No matter. We’ll cross that bridge when it comes to that.” Tim vowed. “Tomorrow, I’ll send you a co-ordinate to my place. I keep my research there. You can come and see if there’s anything I missed.” It was a big deal. A Bat sharing anything with a black sheep like him. Jason was not going to look at a gift horse in the mouth.

 

“Sure can do.” Jason said nonchalantly. “Now go the fuck away. I need my peace. You are disturbing it.” He made a shooing motion with his hand but instead of obeying, Tim just remained where he was.

 

“No.” Tim said stubbornly. “I like this place. It’s windy and nice.” He said. It was apparent that he wasn’t going anywhere. Jason glared. Well he wasn’t going to give up this place, either. Whoever gave in first would be the loser in this game they were playing.

 

So Jason sat there without saying anything else to Tim who also lost in his own world.

 

The winds kept howling.

 

It was a strange type of bonding, but it worked. When the sun came up at the horizon, piercing Gotham with the first ray of light and Tim left, Jason was alone and feeling strangely more peaceful than he had been for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the Tim and Jay bonding time no one asks for. I know I probably messed up all their relationship and stuff because I don't stick so faithfully close to the comic but I hope you guys don't mind it too much. In my mind, I always imagine Tim and Jay as having a love hate relationship. I think Jason does have some brotherly instinct, as long as he gets pass all the jealousy whenever he sees Tim. And Tim sees Jason as a brother, but also as someone who has harmed them all... Hence, it's the mess I wrote up there. 
> 
> Next chapter. The date! And probably some more development. Be warned, I _might_ have to up the rating to explicit depending on my muse. So there's that.
> 
> If you guys spot any typos or spelling mistakes, make sure to tell me! I hope I find most of them but I suck at this writing thing.


	5. The man with no fingerprints

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Long end note ahead. This chapter proved that I have watched too many detective/crime movies/series to know how to hide a fingerprint without gloves. Also, I tried a different approach in this chapter instead of continuing the time line, I did a mini time skip (Sort of) but still include the important parts of the date.
> 
> I wanna say that I think Jason is the type to do exactly the opposite of what people tell him to do.
> 
> And as always, I still have no idea what the hell I'm doing.

Jason fiddled with the knob on the window before he managed to open it with a small click. He looked around, making sure that there was no one on the street before he slid open the window and slipped inside, dropping down on the floor in a soundless, graceful crouch. The alarms in the apartment blared loudly, shrieking at the uninvited intruder.

 

“Jesus Christ! Can’t you use the door like a normal, sane person?” Jason looked up from his position when he heard a cry and a series of displeased grunts. The disheveled head of Tim Drake-Wayne poked out from another room before sock-cladded feet paddled on the carpeted floor to a shielded spot Jason couldn’t see and disable the alarms.

 

“Sanity is overrated, brat. The sooner you learn it, the better your life will be.” Jason said, standing up. He dusted his hands, looking around the apartment. His lips curled up in thinly veiled disgust. “You live like a pig.” He said, picking up a dropped stick note on the floor.

 

“So you kept saying every time we met in the past few days. It doesn’t change a thing.” Tim grunted. “Well come on in then. I don’t have all day.” He said, brushing his hair back with his fingers. He rubbed his eyes, and turned around. Tim didn’t bother to see if Jason was following him or not before he went to his ‘work office’, dropping heavily on the rotating chair in front of a big screen computer.

 

“What do you have for me?” Jason asked, picking up a stack of files near Tim. He flipped through it. It seemed like it was the same today as it was yesterday or the day before it. A quick search had confirmed that there were totally 229 official John Does in U.S. A deeper search revealed that none of them was the one they were looking for.

 

Jason skimmed the files. John Doe the farmer, John Doe the pharmacist, John Doe blah blah…etc Basically, a shit ton of junks. Jason knew too much about the John Does they didn’t really need and too little about the John Doe they were looking for.

 

“I’m searching for it. He can’t pick a more generic name than John Doe. It might be beaten by John Smith.” Tim grouched, snatching the files from Jason’s hands. He looked horrible. The bags under his eyes seemed to be drawn by permanent marker, his face was shrunken and his skin was pale. He also had a three days worth of stubble growing. Tim rubbed his eyes, the oversized jumper only made his body seem smaller.

 

Tim reached over to pick up his mug of coffee, stirring it idly while he focused on the screen filled with pop ups of all kinds, from police reports to hospital records. Tim took a small sip of the coffee. Jason focused on his so called ‘brother’ and it was the last straw that broke the camel’s back. Tim was stirring the mug with a pen while the spoon laid nearby, untouched.

 

It seemed like interference was needed.

 

Jason snatched the mug of coffee away, or at least, he attempted to. Tim dug his fingers stubbornly into the porcelain surface like a mule digging its heels into the ground. “Hey!” Tim snapped. “Quit it!” He cried, trying to snatch the mug back. Unfortunately for him, Jason was not a sleep deprived, self-destructive teenager and he easily tugged the mug free with one last tug.

 

Jason studied the content of the mug with a grimace. “Fuck, kid. You’re drinking tar or something?” He asked, picking up the pen and dropped it with a wet _plop_ on the table. The coffee was so thick Jason was pretty sure that the pen would have stood straight if he left it alone. Jesus Christ.

 

Tim made a face and rescued the nearby papers from coffee stains. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s Death Wish coffee.” He said, his red rimmed eyes were slightly unfocused.

 

“Yeah well, _obviously_. Since you seem to have a death wish yourself.” Jason sneered, putting the mug on the counter far away from Tim’s reach. He took a look around the room, spotting what looked like half eaten takeaway on the floor, and a bunch of unrelated cases being tossed carelessly aside.

 

“ _No,_ ” Tim stressed, “It’s the world’s strongest coffee, dumbass.” He answered, standing up as he faced Jason, towering him in all of his tiny, glorious figure. It was as threatening as a wet cat. “Well?”

 

Jason snorted. Obviously it would be the world’s strongest coffee. If it wasn’t, Jason doubted Tim would be standing right now. The brat was obviously overworked. “Well nothing. I ain’t giving you shit until you shower, and then go to sleep. I don’t need a half dead sidekick messing up the job just because you think it’s a good idea to power through… what? A week of no sleep?” He said.

 

The look Tim gave him was not one of amusement. “I can work just fine if you just give me my coffee. And I’m no one’s side kick.” He protested. Tim turned away to muffle a yawn. Jason raised an eyebrow. At least Tim had the decency to blush.

 

“I can see that.” Jason said dryly. “Go the fuck to sleep. I don’t need the Big Man himself knocking on your door if you collapse while patrolling. I’m not going anywhere.” He said dismissively, dropping himself on Tim’s comfortable rotating chair, studying the opening files in front of him.

 

Jason could feel Tim’s glare at the back of his head for a little bit longer before the fading rustlings of clothes informed him that Tim had left the room. Jason sneaked a glance. Tim had collapsed on the mightily uncomfortable couch, his eyes shut tight together. He was also drooling slightly. Gross. Jason grimaced and focused on the files in front of him, waiting for the Replacement to wake up.

 

* * *

 

 

Jason could pin point the exact moment when Tim woke up. He waited patiently, watching the sleepy teen walk across the apartment, letting out wordless grunts. When Tim came back half an hour later, he looked a lot better than he did earlier. Jason thought Dick ought to give him a pat on his back for being a good brother.

 

“Did you mess with my kitchen?” Tim asked as a way of greeting, dragging a second chair to the work office.

 

Jason snorted. “If by messing you mean ‘did I benevolently unpack Alf’s care package for you’ then yes, I did. You’re welcome.” He said, knocking on the desk surface until he heard a distinct sound of a hollow cavity. Jason slipped his hand under the desk, groping his way to see if there was a lock or something to open the secret storage space. “Did you know you had a rotten apple?” He continued. “You have horrible habits, brat. Alf would be horrified.” He continued, letting out a small ‘Aha’ when he touched a knob of some sort.

 

Before Tim could say anything, Jason had already pressed his fingers into a flat surface and there was another loud, horrible shriek as the alarm system was activated once again. “Shit. Does it key to your fingerprints?” Jason cursed loudly, trying to deactivate it. Tim just gave Jason a deadpan look before opening a hidden compartment, pressing a series of buttons. The shriek died down and the wall behind them slid to the side to reveal a whole different room. This was apparently where Tim did his ‘night work’.

 

Jason rolled his eyes. High tech shit. As expected from the spoiled brat of Bruce Wayne. Tim smirked knowingly. “Don’t be jealous. Your security is just shit.” He said, beckoning for Jason to come inside with him.

 

Jason glared. “Just because you are a spoiled bitch doesn’t mean everyone is.” He said, grabbing a white bundle of something before following Tim to the room. Tim ignored Jason’s jab as he walked around the room, collecting various things for his work.

 

Tim came back to the big table in the middle of room. He pushed aside a few labeled bottles and handed Jason a box of gloves and a mask. “Suit up.” Tim said instead. He put on his own medical mask and snapped the gloves on. “Give me the samples.” He said mechanically, all business now.

 

Jason huffed but didn’t argue even though he hated being ordered by anyone. He put on his own mask and gloves before carefully unrolled the clothed bundle. Inside was a glass wine, a fork and a knife. “Here. I’ll dust for fingerprints. Where’s the powder? Wait, scratch that. Where’s the kit?” Jason asked, grabbing the knife and fork while he handed Tim the wine glass to take the DNA.

 

“Where B. usually keeps it.” Tim answered, opening another cupboard and grabbed a DNA test kit. He examined the glass carefully before setting to work. Jason made a face. Of course it would be where Batman usually kept it. The demonic drill of how to keep things neat when investigating things was something all of the Robins had gone through. Jason was enough of a sappy idiot to remember where the Bat usually kept it, too.

 

Grabbing a box, Jason carefully opened it, taking out a small container of white powder, a roll of clear tape and a brush before he set to work on dusting for the fingerprints. It had been awhile since he did such delicate detective work and Jason was happy to note that even though his skill had gotten rather rusty, the knowledge of what to do still remained strong.

 

* * *

 

Half an hour later, Jason wasn’t so sure about it anymore. “What the fuck?” He asked, staring at the fork and knife closely. This was not possible. He was rusty, yes. But he wasn’t _that_ rusty. Tim looked up from his position across the table, adding a clear substance in the mixture with a dropper.

 

Tim placed the vial down, his hands shifted to his hips. “What’s the matter?” He asked, and Jason could almost imagine the mocking smile behind the mask. Almost. Tim’s voice didn’t change though. It didn’t _sound_ mocking. Hence, Jason couldn’t use it as a reason to punch the brat.

 

“I can’t get the fingerprints.” Jason gritted his teeth and spat out the words after a moment of hesitance. “I _know_ I grabbed his fork and his knife. But I can’t _find_ the goddamned fingerprints.” He said in frustration and only the vials and bottles on the table prevented Jason from slamming his fist down.

 

“You’re done with the wine glass? I’m going have to dust for fingerprint on it, too at this rate.” Jason growled. Tim shrugged and gestured toward the glass. Jason didn’t wait. He snatched it roughly but his grip was surprisingly tender. He didn’t want to damage the evidence after all. He held it to the light and let out another string of unflattering curses.

 

“No fingerprints on this one, either. Look. I ain’t lying.” Jason said, thrusting the glass to Tim’s face. The Replacement took the glass with a skeptical look before holding it up.

 

A moment of silence passed as Tim examined it for himself.

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah. It looks like we are dealing with a criminal as paranoid as the big Bat himself.” Jason grunted. “Well, fingerprint is busted then. So now we wait for that DNA test and then check the record of the date.” Jason said, solving the fingerprint kit back into the box before shoving it where it belonged.

 

“It’s not entirely busted. We can still find out what kind of method he used to conceal his own fingerprints.” Tim said after a moment. “A second. This is going to take more than the basic kit to do.” He announced. He began to talk to himself, seemingly forgetting that Jason was there.

 

“There aren’t many methods to conceal one’s fingerprints. Obviously gloves are out of the question. Coating the fingertips with something is probably the answer. From the look of this, not really oil, this isn’t greasy enough. If we find out what substance he used, we can have a deeper insight to how he thinks… Well, this is going to be a challenge.”

 

Jason tuned out Tim’s babbling, watching the brat go from one corner of the room to another, grabbing various things from swaps to vials and chemicals. Finally, he seemed to have finished with whatever he was doing as he put the sample in a machine and pressed a button. Tim went to his computer and printed out a graph.

 

Jason’s chemistry knowledge wasn’t enough to know what the graph was about but he could hear Tim muttering under his breath. It was some sort of graph to find out the components of the chemical. The kid was writing on the paper, circling various peaks. Finally, he looked up, his eyes brightened. “Figured it out yet, mini detective?” Jason asked, bored out of his mind.

 

“Yes.” Tim said simply. “Water glue. The common type that’s sold everywhere. Doe probably coated his fingertips with it to prevent leaving his fingerprints on things. Our best chance is to get his DNA samples. Or you need to get close enough to get something that he grabs without the coating. Probably that bottle of glue itself.” The brat rambled on.

 

“We are dealing with a seriously professional criminal or a very paranoid one. Or maybe someone that has faked their death and doesn’t want their fingerprints to be matched up with the data. Either way, this will prove problematic in the future. I will add death records in the search list for John Doe then.”

 

Jason pursed his lips, feeling slightly impressed despite his dislike for the Replacement. He could respect professionalism when he saw it. His personal dislike for the Bats or the Replacement didn’t make him blind to the fact that out of all the birds the big Bat had taken under his care, Tim Drake was the one that showed the most potential to investigate things. Being a detective was not merely a test in observation skill. It was a test of a series of collected skills. Personally speaking, Jason was more of a fighter than a detective.

 

“So that’s your elaborated way of saying you don’t know shit about this.” Jason drawled, smirking at the way Tim shot him a look of annoyance. Yeah well, being impressed didn’t mean he wouldn’t go ahead and piss off the brat anyway. “When will you have the result of the DNA test?” Jason asked.

 

Tim glared, looking like he was considering not telling Jason altogether. “A little while longer. Even with W.E.’s funding and the latest machines, DNA testing takes time.” Tim paused. “Let’s go check the recording you have. It should prove more informative than this. Leave the machines alone. I will collect the result later when it’s done.”

 

Jason shrugged. Science wasn’t his thing. Literature was. So he didn’t say much, merely walking out of the lab while Tim locked it again. Jason handed the younger male the flash drive. “Here.” He said simply. Tim plugged in the flash drive and opened the file without another word.

 

* * *

 

_Jason knocked on the door to John’s hotel room, shifting restlessly from nerves. A faint sound of ‘I’m coming’ reassured him that John hadn’t forgotten about the date and there was a sound of something being unlocked before the door opened. “Hey.” Jason greeted._

_“Hey, Zach.” John returned the greeting quietly with a smile. He dressed in a tasteful suit, his hair had been properly combed and tied back for the night. The look he gave Jason was fond._

_“Well, I have something for you.” Jason mumbled, handing John a rose. John laughed in delight when he saw it._

_“A traditionalist, I see. Thank you.” John said, accepting the rose. “Let me put this somewhere first then we can go. Dinner for tonight, isn’t that right?” He asked, turning away from Jason to go place the rose._

_Jason stepped inside, examining the room carefully. It was a bit messy but not overly so. Jason could spot a few imperfections though and he wondered if John had been a lot messier and only cleaned up before Jason came. He approached the fridge, gently prying the door open to see what was inside._

_“Shall we go then?” John came back before Jason had the chance to investigate too deeply. Jason wasn’t sure if the man’s timing was just very right or if it was his attempt at stopping Jason from snooping around his things._

_“Yeah, let’s go. I already reserved our seats.” Jason said. John inclined his head and grabbed the key to his suite. Before he locked it, his eyes studied the room carefully, almost scrutinizing the room. Satisfied with whatever he found or whatever he learned, John waited for Jason to walk out before he locked the door._

 

* * *

 

The video was paused and Tim sighed as he traced a finger over the image of John. “You were right. John Doe looks a lot like Dick.” He whispered, teeth worrying his bottom lip.

 

Jason let out a grunt. He was still pretty deep in denial though. And he hated this investigation as much as he loved it. He hated it because it stirred up the buried feelings he had for the Golden Boy. He had a crush once (He could sort of admit that now) but it had faded with time.

 

When Jason was younger and a lot more naïve, he had thought they could have a chance still. A quick search about the marriage laws had crushed that hope though. And so, with incredible will power, Jason forced himself to see the Golden Boy as nothing more than an annoying existence that enjoyed bonding time and random out of the blue hugs.

 

But Jason would be a liar if he said he wasn’t hopeful that John was Dick. He had thought Dick was dead. As annoying as it was to admit it, Dick was the glue that held the family together. Alfred could only do so much. Without him, the tentative truce between Jason and the Bat family snapped like a dry twig. There was no buffer for the endless arguments between the Demon Spawn and the big bad Bat. The family was on the verge of falling apart on its own.

 

Jason didn’t _want_ to care about it, of course. But the truth was, he sort of did anyway despite his will. He didn’t like seeing the sort-of family he used to have fallen apart at the seams. Hating Bruce was one thing, seeing the strong and mighty Bat Clan tear itself apart was another thing completely. So, maybe Jason wanted John Doe to be Dick Grayson. Jason didn’t know. He was still coming to terms with just the _possibility_ of it.

 

“Who knows.” Jason finally added. “So, what did you gather?” He said, clearing his mind of the thoughts. When he was somewhere quieter, Jason would ponder more on it. For now, he needed to concentrate on the presence.

 

“Well…” Tim began hesitantly. “Nothing much more than what we already concluded earlier. John Doe is insanely careful. See how he lingered before he closed the door? I think he was memorizing the room in case someone tampered with it while he’s gone. After this I will run a face search and a voice search to see if we can match him up with Dick or not.”

 

“Let’s continue then.” Jason prompted.

 

“Yeah, okay.”

 

* * *

 

_The rest of the date passed uneventfully with easy small talk between the pair. Jason learned that Dick had volunteered at a homeless shelter in his free time because he wanted to survey the Crime alley as well as helping people. It was odd but Jason had learned that John was a man of many odd quirks._

_Half way through the dinner, John had relaxed his shoulders, adopting a smile on his face. The time passed quickly and after paying for the meal, Jason realized it was about time they parted way. “I’ll take you home. Would you mind waiting outside for a moment?” He asked John._

_John nodded, giving Jason an odd look but didn’t question him. He left the restaurant while Jason himself waited for a beat before grabbing John’s glass, and his utensils, wrapping them carefully before tucking them away in one of his hidden pockets._

_Contented that he had gotten what he wanted in the first place, Jason greeted John at the entrance and took him back to his hotel. The both of them stood awkwardly at the entrance to John’s room. This was the part where they parted ways awkwardly, Jason’s mind kindly supplied._

_“I had fun today, thank you Zach.” John said with a smile. “You didn’t have to pay for me though.” He said, meeting Jason’s eyes._

_“I want to. You were right. Valuable information comes at a higher price and I consider what I learned today very valuable information.” Jason flirted, shifting his body weight as he slouched back. “So... If you had fun does that mean…?”_

_“A second date?” John finished for Jason. He laughed softly. “Eager to get to the third date much?” He teased. “But yeah. We should do this again sometimes.” He smiled and leaned forward. Surprisingly (or perhaps, unsurprisingly if Jason’s suspicion was proven correct), throughout the meal, Jason figured out that John was a very touchy person._

_John didn’t seem to be aware of that fact himself but he kept brushing his fingers against Jason’s at the oddest moments. So when he leaned forward, Jason was prepared. The brush of lips against lips made Jason’s skin tingled pleasantly. It was just a chaste kiss, and it was oddly sweet. “I will see you in a few days, Zach. When the boss meets up again with you.” John smiled and closed the door, leaving a stunned Jason behind._

 

* * *

 

The video ended in silence. Jason could feel his own face heat up again at re-watching such a private scene in front of his not-really brother. Putting a camera on his shirt pocket had been a _terrible_ idea. Tim hadn’t even commented yet, running a program to match John’s voice and face.

 

“Have no comments, brat?” Jason asked after awhile, refusing the urge to feel embarrassed. He wasn’t a teenager bringing a crush home. He didn’t have anything to be ashamed of.

 

“You do realize… If that’s Dick… Your relationship with him…” Tim began. The former Robin took a moment to collect himself before he began again, his voice was steadier this time. “He’s my brother. I won’t let you harm him. For the sake of this mission, I will turn a blind eye against this… this relationship. But as soon as we get the confirmation we need, I want this to stop.” He said coolly.

 

Jason narrowed his eyes, annoyance and anger immediately flared. “You don’t get to tell me how to do shit. He and I aren’t related by blood.” He said. He chose to ignore the little voice niggling about ‘pseudo incest’ right now. He didn’t like being ordered around, especially by the Replacement.

 

“It doesn’t mean it’s not _incest_.” Tim argued, standing up. He let the program run its course while he turned his attention fully to Jason. Jason sneered, the anger burnt hotly in his chest.

 

“Please. It’s not like we are saints. We break the law every night going out and doing what we do. Don’t pretend to be high and mighty.” Jason said. “What I do in my free time is none of your business. _Who_ I do in my free time is none of your business, either.” He stalked over Tim, looming over him. “Listen here. I don’t give a _fuck_ what you think is wrong or right. He isn’t my brother, not by blood anyway. Fuck off. This truce between us? This only holds because I want to find out the truth as much as you do.”

 

Tim wasn’t one to be intimidated either and he glared back, blue eyes burnt brightly. “You are delusional! Dick has never thought of you as anything other than a _brother_! You are sick! If that person is indeed Dick, as soon as he finds out, he will be disgusted with you!” He cried.

 

“Fuck you! Fuck you and your self-imposed morality!” Jason snapped.

 

Both Jason and Tim were breathing heavily, Jason was on the verge of punching Tim and the Replacement looked like he was trying to hold himself back from saying something snarky. With visible effort, Tim swallowed whatever words he wanted to say down. “Let’s focus on confirming whether John Doe is Dick or not first.” Tim finally said, turning away from Jason.

 

With the Replacement backing down first, Jason felt his anger cool slowly and he wrestled it back as well. “Fine.” He bit out, fingers twitching. He ought to have brought his guns today with him. Maybe it was a lucky thing that he hadn’t, he wasn’t sure if he could control himself with it. It would be bad manners to blow a hole in the Replacement's head.

 

“Anything else before I leave? I can’t stand being near a hypocrite right now.” Jason sneered.

 

Tim glared back. “No.” He huffed. “I will inform you when the results come in.” The Red Robin tapped some codes on the keyboards harsher than necessary, still obviously fuming.

 

Jason sneered. He didn’t give a fuck. Now he really regretted unpacking Alfred’s care package for the ungrateful bastard. He turned around and walked out of the door but paused at Tim’s ‘Jason’.

 

“What?” Jason snapped. What did the Replacement want _now_?

 

“People who came out of the Lazarus Pits are never the same again. They came back _wrong_.” Tim began, focusing his attention on the screen, pointedly avoiding Jason’s gaze. “Maybe there’s something wrong with your sexual attraction, too. Not just your anger management.”

 

What. The. Fuck. Did the Replacement just call Jason _crazy_ to his face? He knew he came back wrong. He fucking knew that. But that was just one step too far! How _dared_ he?! Jason gritted his teeth so hard his head hurt and he stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door so hard he broke something.

 

Fuck this shit. It was so not _worth_ it.

 

Jason’s burner phone vibrated.

 

‘ _Hey. Wanna have a cup of coffee with me?_ ;)’ was the text he received.

 

Without thinking, Jason shoved the phone to his pocket and drove to the address John gave him like he was giving a giant middle finger to the Replacement. He felt elated with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, this is the really long end note. You didn't think I would make it easy for them to identify Dick, did you? First of, to clarify something
> 
>  **Pseudo-incest:** Yeah it's a thing, apparently, it's the attraction between people not related by blood but through things like adoption. It's still incest, and the laws seem to treat pseudo-incest just as it treats incest. So there won't be a big happy wedding for them (Considering that Jason Todd is still legally dead... so...). I have always wondered why the Bat fam (and their friends) seem to be so accepting of JayDick relationship. For the younger ones like Tim and Dami, it should be like seeing your brothers together _together_. Plus, I want to break the usual mold, so here we have this story, where Tim (and later on, probably the others) take time to process the information instead of outright accepting it the moment they hear it.
> 
> Also, Jason is neat. I really like that canon fact about him, so I would imagine seeing someone in a poor living condition will probably make him itch to fix that. Hence his 'kindness'. I had fun writing Tim and Jason's interaction. I don't see things through rose-tinted glass. Like I said previously, they are bitter with each other, but they are still brothers.
> 
> And finally, I am a biotech student, so I try to stick to the biotech procedures as much as I can. The DNA, chemical and fingerprint analysis is as close as I can make it without it being overly complicated. If you guys want more info on them, you can ask me and I'll try my best to reply in the comments.
> 
> P/S: fun fact: Death Wish coffee is real btw. Comic Tim needs it imo

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this. I am eager to hear your feedbacks and any suggestions on how to improve the story for the better :D It's my first time posting a Jaydick fic so I'm a bit anxious but hopefully, I will manage to scrap by :D If I make any typos and stuff, please don't be hesitate to let me know. Also, another thing I forgot to mention: This is loosely based on canons so not all events are the same.


End file.
